A Queen's Secret
by DaemonicKitten
Summary: Mary arrives at court, but something's amiss. Why is she so distant and distracted? What is she hiding? Francis/Mary and Bash/OC pairing. Only hints of romance in this short story, for now. Will POSSIBLY be a sequel.
1. Arrival to Court

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Reign, any of its affiliates, or anything I might choose to cross it over with. I only own my OC(s).

**Note**: This story will loosely follow along the Reign storyline, but with a lot of changes, so definitely AU.

**Summary** : Mary arrives at court, but something's amiss. Something seems off. Why is she so distant and distracted? What is she hiding? Frary and Bash/OC pairing.

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><p>"Mary!"<p>

"It's so good to see you again! You've grown up so well!"

"You look beautiful!"

Did I really?

My heart lurched in my chest, and it took all I had not to curl up in a ball and turn myself into a mass of trembling limbs and hair. The dress I wore felt too tight, but I knew that was actually the tight, under bust corset I wore under the black off the shoulder gown I wore. The dress was pretty, jet black silk with elegant silver sewing along the neckline and hemline. It had long, flowing sleeves, and a long, flowing skirt with a slit up the front, showing the white, flowing skirt I wore underneath.

My hair, the long, almost black locks, had been curled lightly and pushed back out of my face by a heavily jeweled, metallic headband/tiara/headdress, and I wore a single side braid on either side of my head, with a single strand of silver silk braided into each, and silver beads placed sporadically along each braid to highlight the otherwise dark locks.

I wore large, dangling, jeweled earrings, and a heavily jeweled necklace around my neck, and a single signet ring on my finger.

I also wore a midnight blue cloak wrapped around my shoulders, a large, jeweled broach holding it closed around my throat, and I left the hood down, despite the light, chilly breeze that blew around us.

"Mary?"

I stared down the four girls before me, who regarded me with nothing but kindness and friendliness. They ranged from a shorter, slighter bright blonde girl, who was positively _petite_ and glowing with bubbly cheer, to a medium blonde who wore a _lot_ of jewelry, a light brunette with a slender, sylph-like build, and a dark brunette with vibrant blue eyes.

"Mary?"

"Huh?" Shaking my head, I blinked rapidly, and frowned. "I'm sorry. What were you saying?"

"Are you well?" The small blonde spoke up.

I blinked at her. "You-I... Of course! I'm fine." I forced a smile, categorizing their faces and qualities, while matching them to the names I was given. I eyed each of the girls. "Kenna, Greer, Lola! It's so good to see you! Oh, Aylee, we're all together again!" The words rang oddly in my own ears, and I blinked, trying not to show it. _Be strong. Be a queen._

They all smiled, cheerful and bubbly and happy. The tension in my chest lightened when _none_ of them showed any sign that I'd gotten the names wrong or out of order, and I felt my smile turn slightly more genuine in return.

Seeing the trunks being off loaded from the carriage behind them, I felt my eyebrows hike into my hairline. _I was told of one that liked to show off her fortune. _"Oh, Greer! Those can't all be clothes!"

She smiled and turned to look, only to laugh slightly and shake her head, before coming over to me and reaching out. I went rigid as her fingers combed into my hair, only to relax as she played with the curls gently. "There's jewelry and makeup as well. Making up in quantity what I lack in station, I suppose." With a final tug of my hair, she walked back into my peripheral, looking nothing but happy.

We'd only been standing for what felt like minutes before the sound of trumpets aired, booming down the red carpeted path between the two large groups of what I could only guess were the servants and peasants living within the castle, and probably more than a few nobles who were visiting. The sound blasted through the air, echoing a bit as the trumpets at in the distance, and only a moment later, two people walked out of the wide opening in the castle's wall.

The man was older. Even from the distance, I could tell that much. He looked, if I had to guess, in his forties or so. Fifties, maybe, dressed from head to toe in clearly high quality goods and finery. He was bald headed, but for the crown he wore so proudly, with a thin layer of dark brown beard framing the lower half of his face. He was tall, lean, and appeared to be fit, despite being a king. His expression appeared to be stern, if politely indifferent. An expression matched by the stunning woman at his side.

_She_ looked no older than her early thirties, perhaps. I pegged her to be older, though, because either she was the queen or the beloved mistress I'd heard so much about. Both of which had children around my age. She, too, was tall and slender. Fit, slight, sylph-like, with dark brown hair that fell to maybe an inch or two beyond her shoulders, which was partly pulled back out of her face. She was beautiful, wearing a blue-green gown of some shade I couldn't think of the name of, with a heavy dark cloak on over top, and she walked arm-in-arm with the king.

"That must be King Henry, but is that Catherine?"

The large, golden crown, and exquisite finery all over the man before me _screamed_ 'king'! The fact he was walking down the center of the large red carpet and people and guards alike were bowing to him as he passed only proved me right.

I watched them approach rapidly. They weren't running, or even jogging, but their movements were quick, strong and purposeful. There was no taking their time, or moving slowly or sedately. Maybe he _was_ in a hurry, and had just planned his walk to be _just_ shy of looking like it. Regardless, as I watched them approach, both of them looking shades of polite, bored and indifferent, I couldn't help the way my eyes locked on the king's face.

Or the hot, sharp, distinctly uncomfortable feeling twisting in my stomach, until I began to wonder if it was _actually_ possible to puke at the _sight_ of a person.

Was this...hatred...or just a very powerful anger?

And _why_ was I feeling it?

"No. They're still waiting on her. That's Diane de Poitiers, the king's mistress." Kenna's voice sounded with intrigue.

I turned to her, frowning. _De Poitiers?_ Something tickled in the back of my mind. _De Poitiers. De Poitiers. Why is that familiar?_ Tilting my head a little, I turned back to the group, immediately noting how a man appeared down at the door way, and began to walk with the same sense of confidence, pride and strength.

I knew I needed to be strong and hold back. I had to be a _queen_! Not just 'some girl'. People expected things of me. I had responsibilities, but as I looked upon him, I felt the first twinges of..._something_ undeniably warm and...and... I... I wanted _more_ of it. I wanted to know what it _was_. There was something about him that pressed at the walls in my mind. A small pain made me wince, and my eyes squinted against it, but I struggled not to close them. I _wanted_ to see him. _He_ was the one whose mere _presence_ was pressing against those walls in my head, threatening to...to...

"Is that Francis? He's _gorgeous_!"

Yes, he _was_!

I swallowed thickly, suddenly finding myself both incredibly excited _and_ uncomfortable at the same time. Was _this_ my betrothed? Such a beautiful man! Was he kind, as well? Would he care for me?

_Wrong. Wrong. It's all wrong. _

I watched him walk past the king and mistress, stopping a few feet ahead of them, and giving me a good look at him as he seemed to eye us as well. He wore dark brown leather pants with knee high black boots on over top, with a...well, if I was being honest, a rather unflattering leather doublet that was far too short and frilly around the bottom to suit his long, lean, wiry frame, or the strong, masculine face. He had a shock of short, dark brown hair on the top of his head, and a thin, dark brown beard framing long, thin lips, and a fair complexion. His eyes... He was _so_ far away, like the others, that I couldn't see the color of his eyes, but even as he looked at _me_, I found myself picking out the fact his eyes were some kind of light color.

_Blue._

Blinking, I felt my eyes narrow and I frowned, even as he raised an eyebrow my way, before turning to take his place behind his father, patiently, and regarding me with a curious tilt of his head once he turned back around.

_Where did that come from?_

I struggled to think.

Had the nuns told me? They basically described the royal family, but had they mentioned eye color? Had I listened? Did they even _touch_ on the brunette before me? Information piled into my head, jumbling up into a mess, before I blinked as voices sounded, forcing my gaze off the increasingly amused-looking man before me. I turned to the girls at my side as they chatted slightly.

"I think that's Sebastian de Poitiers, the king's bastard." Kenna was looking at the others with a look of intrigue. "I hear the king favors him."

_De Poitiers. _

_Again._

If my eyes narrowed any more, they'd be closed, but as a headache settled into my forehead, I found myself wincing sharply and reaching up a hand to massage at my temple. It was quickly followed by my other at my other temple, where I sat massaging them slightly as I struggled to push past the throbbing pain.

"Mary? Are you well?"

"...Yeah." I shook my head. "Yes. It's just a headache." I forced my hands down. _I need to be strong._

_This is wrong. All of this. I don't belong here._

_I _must_ be strong! Scotland needs me!_

The voices swirled in my head, before I shoved them aside with annoyance and heaved a deep breath, turning back to the groups as another voice sounded, echoing around us.

"Announcing her royal Highness, Queen Catherine!"

Once more, almost unbidden, my eyes flew to _him_. 'Sebastian de Poitiers'. A beautiful name for a beautiful man. A man...I could _not_ afford to be intrigued by, or curious with, since he apparently was _not_ my betrothed after all.

...Damn!

I noticed him watching us, or rather, it appeared he was watching _me_. His eyes were narrowed. Gone was the amusement. Now he looked almost curious, confused. Then, forcing my eyes off him once more, I watched as a shorter, more sturdily built redheaded woman came marching down the path. She wore elaborate, fancy dress as well, and a crown around her head, but unlike the intrigue and bored indifference on the faces of the others, _her_ expression was cold and calculating.

The same cold, sharp, twisting, angry feeling in my gut hit, but it was a thousand times worse than it was before.

_This_ was hatred!

There was no doubt about it!

I _hated_ this woman, for some reason.

In fact, her mere presence had me standing straighter and squaring my shoulders. Gone was any sign of weakness or pain. I hardened my gaze, before remembering to mask it behind my own mask of cool indifference at her approach.

She moved ahead of the other woman, the mistress, and stood a few feet before her, haughtily, without a single thought to the fact she'd moved before the king as well. She stood with her hands folded before her, waiting, and behind her and the king, and his mistress and son, stood a tall, intimidating figure in black, with a heavy black beard and shaggy, thick, black hair.

"Mary."

There was a touch to my arm.

Turning to look, I caught Lola staring off into the distance, and I followed her gaze, only to feel my eyes widen.

A beautiful man with shaggy, wavy blonde hair falling about his ears came walking forward. I watched him walk over, looking almost bored and unhappy, before he looked at me. There was a moment of confusion as he hesitated in his steps, before walking over with wide eyes, smiling slightly. He was tall and lean, wiry...just like his brother and father, seemingly, and dressed in black leather pants, a black jacket and an off-white shirt underneath.

Nowhere near as dressy as his father or brother, but still quite fetching in the sharpness of the color, the fit, and how it complimented his sun kissed skin, blonde hair, dirty blonde beard, and ocean blue eyes. Was _this_ 'Francis'? The way he approached wasn't to be expected of an assassin or any kind of killer, or even a commoner, considering all others were keeping a healthy distance. All other royals were down at the carpet, but a glance showed no more joining them, though _most_ eyes had drifted to the handsome blonde before me.

_This_..._was_...Francis...

My betrothed.

I looked back to him, and unlike his brother, I felt _no_ tugging or pressure or _anything._ "I don't believe it." No fluttering in my chest. No 'butterflies'. No weakness or blushing. This was my betrothed...and I felt _nothing_ at the sight of him. _Double damn!_

He smiled at me and bowed at his waist, clearly eyeing me intensely. "Your Grace."

I shook my head. _I hate titles_! "Please, call me Mary." I nodded my head and curtsied ever so slightly. Though _I_ was a queen, and he a prince, I was also a visitor in his country.

He nodded. "Francis."

We stared at each other. I knew he was looking at me, but I kept waiting for _something_. A familiarity, an attraction, _something_. Nothing happened. After a long moment, I realized he was probably waiting for something, and I scrambled before looking past him, to the very _massive_ castle behind him. "The castle seems bigger, is that possible?"

"Is that so surprising?"

_Yes._

I shook my head.

He nodded, looking almost amused, and semi-turned from me, towards the crowds, before pulling a long arm from where it hid behind his back, and gesturing towards the carpet before us. "Shall we?"

I shivered, struggling to ignore this growing sense of unease that hit me, and nodded, before stepping forward. He began to walk, and I immediately fell into step beside him, following him towards the welcoming group, but despite his friendly appearance, and the welcoming appearances of those around me, I couldn't shake the unease about me. Nothing was right. All seemed wrong, and I wanted desperately to go _back_ to the Convent

I did _not_ want to be here, surrounded by all these people, so many of which I didn't know if I could trust!

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><p><strong>Written<strong> : Feb 1, 2014

Hope you like it.

R+R please.

Thank you.

Kitten


	2. Bash

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Reign, any of its affiliates, or anything I might choose to cross it over with. I only own my OC(s).

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><p><strong>(Later)<strong>

I sat in my chambers, the girls laughing giddily and playing around.

I sat in a chair, holding a silver hand-held mirror before me, and running a pinky stained with a glistening pinkish gel over my lips carefully. I applied the lipstick, unable to shake annoyances and irritations with how things were done, even as I had already changed into a sleeveless, blue silk gown, with a lace cover over the bodice, and thick, frilly lace straps.

The skirt was left a shiny silk, moving silently and softly against my legs as I walked, but even here and now, I couldn't get away from the discomfort of corsets, even of _this_ one was also hidden under the form-fitting bodice of the dress. My hair was left as it was, though I'd changed into a slightly smaller and less pronounced, jeweled headband. At least _that_ I didn't have to suffer through.

Once I was done with my lips, I wiped my fingers on a cloth nearby, before reaching for a kohl stick, and sticking it in the crushed up powder in the small bowl, before scratching it across the edges of my eyelids, dangerously close to my eyes. Again, I couldn't shake the feeling this was somehow tedious, unnecessary, and rather dangerous, just for a hint of color.

And yet, I did it.

I didn't bother with pinching my cheeks for color. I'd rather have gone with a straight, slightly pale olive complexion, or a fresh blush from a walk on a cool day, then go through the pain and discomfort for a slight pinkening that would only last until the areas healed.

"Are all these dresses from Paris?" Kenna twirled in her latest dress of choice.

Greer walked over towards her, laughing and twirling as well, before nodding. "Yes! Every one!"

I looked at the dresses. They really were _quite_ beautiful, if I found a few _not_ quite to my taste. I wore my own numbers, which the nuns had given me, apparently from a wardrobe they had set aside for me, for the day I would return to the Court. I placed my hand against my stomach as I lowered the mirror and kohl stick, staring at myself in the large, full body mirror the other girls were using.

_Is this really me?_

_It doesn't feel right._

"If Colin could see me now, he'd marry me in an instant! I look of age, now! We all do!" Lola was laughing and standing tall and proud, smiling widely into the mirror.

I frowned at the back of her head. _Colin? Oh yes, her betrothed. She told me about him._ And yet, something twisted in my gut in a way that had a tendril of fear lingering in the back of my head. A tendril of doubt, fear and confusion. A wariness that refused to fade, no matter how happy and joyful the situation before me.

The introductions to the royal family had been quick and, for the most part, relatively painless. I'd met Henry, Diane, Catherine, Sebastian, Francis, _little_ Henry, Charles and Nostradamus. King, favorite mistress, not-so-favored queen (which I didn't blame him for, judging by her cold, aloof attitude), favored son (who had a voice like velvet and _appeared_ to be as kind as he was beautiful), crown prince (who was kind and beautiful, if seemingly withdrawn the more we spoke), the two little brothers, who were friendly and sweet and innocent, and the seer, who was polite, handsome and quiet.

And sent yet another tendril of unease through me.

I heard their names, they welcomed me to French Court, apologized for the circumstances of my arrival, invited me and my ladies to the after-wedding party tonight, and left us to our devices. Elizabeth wasn't there. I guessed because she was hiding away, preparing for her wedding. Same with Philip. I didn't mind. Less royal figures meant less introductions, and a faster get-a-way.

Their names sent different feelings through me, and despite the words I'd been told on each, I was more liable to go with my gut.

Henry and Catherine both sent feelings of unease. Something hot, sharp and tense, that I did _not_ like, and could _not_ shake, that left my polite return greeting strained in my efforts to be _polite_ and kind in return. I did not want to be around them. I did not want to be under their gaze. I did not want to speak with them, and I did not know why.

Diane I felt nothing towards, one way or the other. She and Nostradamus were the most blank of them all. There was a hint of unease towards both, that I immediately slotted in my 'I don't know them, so I don't trust them' category, before dismissing.

The children, again, I felt nothing one way or the other. I felt an instant fondness that came with greeting children, as the one thing I _did_ know, I adored children, but that was it.

Francis, I felt restrained. I felt uneasy, angry, easy, calm... I did not know _how_ to feel, but I felt no attraction. No drawing sensation. No pressure against the walls in my mind. No familiarity. I felt...that maybe, all lies and secrets aside, _maybe_ I could be friends with him, but I felt no love. I felt nothing that told me I _could_ love him.

It was _Sebastian_ that frightened me.

The intensity of the mixed up jumble of emotions I felt towards him hit me hard, like a concrete wall slamming into me out of nowhere. I felt intrigue, I felt a tugging/pulling/drawing towards him. I couldn't help _but_ notice every detail of this man. From the slight heart shape of his lips, to the slightest smiles and smirks he'd give. I noticed his eyes, whether they crinkled in the corners from early onset laugh lines when he _did_ smile, to the sheer iridescent _color _of his eyes!

I noticed the honey tone in his words, and the thick accent that didn't quite ring French in my ears, despite my knowing better. My own accent was...very different, but amazingly enough, _no one_ batted an eyelash. I didn't have the same smooth curl to my words they did. I felt...lacking. Different.

And no one noticed.

I struggled to shove all thoughts of him aside, only to find myself consumed by them moments later once more. I felt warm, hot, tense, at ease. I felt _no_ unease or anger or sharp, ominous feelings towards _him_.

I _trusted_ him!

"You know what I want to do? Explore!" Aylee's voice knocked me out of my musings, and I watched her smile widely as she turned towards me. "We haven't been here since we were children! Surely the castle's changed! Who's with me?"

"I am!" Kenna cried, laughing giddily.

I watched the girls all laugh and echo her, before smiling slightly. "Go. I'll find you later. There's something I want to see." They all raced off, and I found myself smiling a little as they went, before letting it fall away once they were gone. _So cheerful and completely at ease here. I wish I could be like them._

"Sterling."

Looking over my shoulder, I found the dog I'd befriended several days earlier as his head perked up immediately. He was so easy to befriend, and sweet and loyal almost instantly. I chalked that up to his being a dog, and dogs loving unconditionally. I stood and straightened and turned towards the dog, walking over quietly as I smoothed my hands down the dress I wore. Reaching out, I took his shaggy head in my hands and stroked his face gently.

He was a large, grey Scottish Deerhound. A large dog, not all that outwardly _attractive_, really, but very well behaved and very friendly. "Want to go for a walk with me?" I stroked my hand down over his head once more, before pulling back and reaching for a dark green cloak I had, slipping it on over my dress, and fastening it shut with a smaller, jeweled brooch at the front. "Come on, Sterling. Let's go, boy."

Unlike what I'd told the girls, I had no destination in mind.

Generally, I just wanted to get out and explore the castle, myself, but be left alone to my thoughts while I did it. Would anything spark the memories? Would anything be familiar? Maybe I should seek my betrothed. Maybe _he_ could help me...but no... I was told it was best _not_ to talk to anyone about...

_Scotland must be seen as strong, therefore, the _queen_ must be strong!_

_I must be strong!_

_I must do this alone!_

I grit my teeth, still debating on finding and speaking to Francis. Maybe a trip down memory lane would help. Maybe he could show me around, and I could get to know my fiancé all over again. I knew that the _rightful_ thing to do was to go meet up with my betrothed and get to know him, but...where would he be? How would I find him? Would it be _proper_ to ask for him?

Deciding against the action, once more choosing to be alone with my thoughts, I decided to ask about something else, instead. Wandering out of the room and along the corridors with Sterling at my side, I let the cloak fall over my arms, keeping them warm of the cooler air as we went. The dog was ever silent and alert, walking patiently beside me as I wandered up and down random halls. I bypassed guards, undoubted on their patrols. I bypassed busy looking servants as well, deciding that my inquiries weren't really worth interrupting their duties and forcing them to deal with possibly unpleasant masters or mistresses as a result.

Truthfully, I had _no_ idea where I was going.

It didn't take me long to find the entrance, where I found myself standing just within the wide open doors that peered out at the large, immaculate yard, and the lake beyond. Going for a walk sounded intriguing. In fact, the possibility of going for a _ride_ had my fingers twitching...until I remembered I was a _queen_ and would need_ guards_ watching over me.

Seeing a random servant wandering by, with nothing in her hands and no brisk pace to her steps, I casually stepped half in her way. "Excuse me." She looked up and her eyes widened. Immediately the blonde dropped into a graceful curtsy.

"Your Grace."

_I hate titles..._ "I was wondering... The chambers I'm staying in now, over in the West Wing of the castle, would you happen to know if those are the same chambers I stayed in six years ago?" At her confused look, I shook my head. "I was hoping to visit my former chambers, briefly, however the ones I'm in now are not at all familiar to me, and I can't quite remember where my chambers were, before." It felt like a shoddy excuse.

Six years, and I didn't _remember_ where my chambers were?

She nodded, before shaking her own head. "I am afraid I do not know, Your Grace. I was not here six years ago."

"Ah, but _I_ was."

The sudden voice had me jumping and spinning with a startled gasp. A hand went to my chest as I turned, stiffening briefly, only to find my eyes locking with incredible blue.

Sebastian de Poitiers stood behind me, smirking a little, looking quite smug and amused. As our eyes locked, he bowed briefly, before turning his gaze to the girl next to me. "You may be excused. I will see to the Scottish Queen's questions."

"Yes, My Lord. Your Grace."

I turned and absently bowed my head in thanks to the girl who wasted no time in rushing off. Immediately, my heart lurched into my throat, and I found myself suddenly...quite excited _and_ uncomfortable with his presence. This strong sense of contradictions that flit through me had my brow lowering over my eyes as I struggled to figure out whether I was _happy_ to see him, or _alarmed_.

"So... I hear you don't _remember_ where your old chambers are. Was your last stay truly so forgettable?"

The one of his voice was light, and as he spoke, I found myself looking at him, unable to help myself. I knew it was only polite to _look_ at who was speaking to you, but as his voice sounded, it felt _impossible not to_ look. My eyes locked on his, but as he asked me his question, I couldn't hide the sharp wince, or the undoubtedly pained expression that crossed my features.

"'Forgettable'." The word was sharp and bitter on my tongue, and left an acidic burn in my throat, and had me blinking rapidly against it as it turned to my eyes. "Perhaps I'll wait until another time. I believe I'm in need of air, at the moment." I struggled to ignore the way his own smirk faded, or the way his eyes narrowed.

He'd caught me, and now I felt trapped.

He couldn't know.

I _couldn't_ tell him!

Scotland _had_ to be strong!

With my heart lurching in my chest, I turned my back to the man behind me. _He's the bastard. I'm a queen. I don't need to be formal or curtsy to him._ "Excuse me, My Lord."

"Wait!" Before I'd gotten three steps, a firm, _strong_, warm hand wrapped around my arm. Conveniently enough, where the cloak had fallen back, leaving bare skin for him to grasp.

I gasped, surprised, and turned sharply as my arm positively _tingled. _

"Forgive me. I meant no offence."

"And I took none."

"And yet you look ready to cry-"

"I am a queen, I do not cry!" I snapped, ripping my arm out of his grip with an ease that startled even _me_. At my side, Sterling growled ominously, reminding me of his loyal, protective presence. While I was happy to have him warning people away from me, the last thing I needed was to anger the king by letting my dog rip a chunk out of his 'favored' son's leg, so I put a hand on the dog's head, hearing him fall silent. "Do not think me so weak." I spoke quieter, taking a deep breath, eyes solely on the dog.

"I never called you weak, Your Grace." The confused look on his face spoke volumes.

_And yet you make me feel it._ I thought, taking note of my body's traitorous actions and reactions in his presence.

Silence reigned between us, and I ran my fingers lightly over Sterling's head, watching as he slowly relaxed and sat. _I_ didn't relax until several moments after he finally sat down, and I heaved a breath as the tension melted back out of me...for the most part, that is. My stupid arm was _still_ tingling!

"Tell me, why come to the main entrance in looking for your former chambers? Why not simply ask your page?"

"Page?"

I finally gathered the strength to look up at the bastard before me, who looked almost infuriatingly unbothered by my earlier outburst. I was willing to bet my look was as blank as it felt, but in all my lessons, 'pages' was not something I'd covered. The first thing that came to mind was a sheet of paper. A page from a book. Obviously, that was _not_ what he was referring to.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Your messenger? Guards?" Then his eyebrows drew down. "Was there no one outside your room to help?"

"Of course." I shook my head. "But they were all busy, and to be honest, I _still_ have yet to decide between tracking down my former chambers or going for a walk. Or a ride."

Suddenly, he was smiling again. "Come now, Your Grace. I'll show you the way to your former chambers. If I'm right, my brother should already be there."

Frowning in confusion, I watched him turn and begin up the flight of stairs behind us, before he paused and turned to me expectantly. _Francis? Or another brother? _What would anyone be doing in my old chambers? Were they not bed chambers anymore?

A small voice in my mind whispered I should dismiss him and leave. It told me that following him and allowing him so much freedom around me could come back to bite me in the ass one day, and yet, I found my feet moving _towards_ him. Despite the voice warning me that I didn't know if I could trust this man... I found myself following him further into the castle, and down unfamiliar halls.

And the entire time, I found myself hearing faint, indistinct voices in the back of my head, whispering things I felt like I _needed_ to know, but could not make out.

Whispers that urged me forward.

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><p><strong>Written<strong> : Feb 2, 2014

Hope you like it.

R+R please.

Thank you.

Kitten


	3. Random, Scary Flashback

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Reign, any of its affiliates, or anything I might choose to cross it over with. I only own my OC(s).

* * *

><p>"Tell me, how was your stay in the Convent."<p>

_How should I know?_ "Uneventful."

"Have you learned any skills?"

"It was a _Convent_."

"That's no answer."

Frowning silently, I tried to control my nagging, rampant thoughts. Following the elder, bastard brother was clearly a bad idea. If it wasn't for his innocent greeting earlier setting off an explosion even _I_ hadn't seen coming, his continuously innocent questions and his increasingly intoxicating presence were slowly driving me _mad_!

If it wasn't the scent of leather, spice and something I couldn't _quite_ identify that wafted off him whenever I accidentally wandered too close, or he brushed past me, it was those inconceivable eyes that seemed to draw me in and drown me in their endless iridescent hues! Or it was the way my heart fluttered _every_ time his hand brushed past mine. He confused and confounded me, and I found myself desperately wanting to tell him the _truth_!

And yet, I couldn't.

So each question he asked me..._annoyed_ me!

More and more!

"Tell me, Mary-"

He'd long ago done away with formalities. I'd never asked him to, though I wanted to. If nothing else, though I _wanted_ to, _not_ asking felt like the safer option, because formality felt like a wall. A protective barrier, and yet he went and dismantled it all on his own, without even a 'by your leave' in my direction.

And for some reason, I both liked and loathed the way he spoke my name.

"-what is it about your time in the Convent that seems to have you hesitating to answer my questions? It was just a _Convent_, as you, yourself have said, and yet you hesitate and answer vaguely to any and all questions I ask. If I were to ask what you had for breakfast three days ago, I half expect you to answer with 'food'."

Despite myself, I felt my lips twitching up. "That _does_ sound like me, yes. I also had _food_ for lunch and _food_ for dinner, as well."

He chuckled at my side.

And I found myself lowering my head a little, allowing my hair to fall forward and hide my face, despite the side braid that kept a small portion of it back out of my face. I liked his laugh. Too much. I _couldn't_ like his laugh as much as I did. I _shouldn't_!

"So...what is it you're hiding?"

"I don't suppose we'll be nearing my former chambers any time soon...?" I asked, instead of answering. We walked up a large flight of warm brown wooden stairs, and I found myself dragging my fingertips along the banister lightly, frowning as something tickled in the back of my mind slightly.

"You're changing the subject."

I didn't answer.

"You're very enigmatic, young queen." There was a tone in his voice. A different one. It took me a moment to realize it _wasn't_ a pleasant one. "Tell me, is it the memories themselves you don't wish to speak of, or _my_ presence which causes you to hesitate?"

I paused, literally stopping cold on the stairs. "Your presence?" I frowned. _Yes, his presence _is_ overwhelming, but-_ "What does your presence have to do with anything." Then, a thought hit me. _He's not referring to-_ "Is this about... What _exactly_ are you referring to?" I turned to him sharply, waiting impatiently for the answer I wasn't sure I _wanted_ to hear.

He sighed and shook his head, still staring ahead, though I noted the harder expression in his eyes. "Forget it. It's nothing." His tone was dismissive.

Forget it? _Like hell! _"Is this about your bastardy? Do you deem me so shallow that I...what? Consider you unworthy of the truth? I don't wish to speak of my past, and you immediately jump to thinking it's because of _you_ I don't wish to speak of it...?"

He frowned at me, eyes narrowed. "You would not be the first."

Suddenly, I found myself full of all new questions and curiosities, and concerns. My eyes narrowed. "Were we not close as children? I stayed in the castle, and I assume I had a chance to get to know you then. Were we not friends?"

It was _his_ turn to frown. "I was merely teasing before, but now I find myself truly curious. Was your stay here so very forgettable that you would need to _ask_?"

"That damn word again!" I snapped, unable to help myself. I was irritated beyond belief, and beyond irate...more at my circumstances than anything else. "'Forgettable'! _Everything_ is 'forgettable'! I remember _nothing_, Sebastian! Not of six years ago! Not even of _two_! _Nothing_! It is _all_ gone! So yes, I _do_ feel the need to ask!" And just like that, with my heart hammering angrily in my chest, and my chest heaving with breath, I felt my eyes widen with horror and slapped a hand over my mouth as I realized the words I'd just angrily ranted out to the eldest son of the king, himself.

Sebastian pivoted on his heel with surprising agility, turning to face me fully, eyes widening. "What is _this_?"

I shook my head, forcing my hand back down to my side, even as the growing sense of horror washed over me. "I... I... I mean... I-It was a long time ago." I swallowed thickly, turning away, only to find my arm captured in that same tight, warm, _strong_ grip as before. "Release me." Oh _why_ did my voice have to come out so weak?

"What do you mean 'it's 'all' gone'?" He asked sharply. "Are you saying you have-"

"I am not saying anything!"

"Mary-"

"I am _fine_!" I hissed, growing increasingly desperate for him to just _drop_ it. "Leave it alone, Sebastian."

"But-"

"I _beg_ of you!" My eyes burned threateningly as I stared him down. "No one can know! I must be strong! Scotland _depends_ on me!" I had given up all pretenses of hiding it away. My words clearly weren't persuading him, and I found myself looking all around us, hoping and praying no one overheard us.

He stared at me, frowning. "No one knows...?"

"Only a few nuns in particular." I sighed heavily, leaning against the stone wall behind me. "After the poisoning, they took their chance to educate me in a rush. I know not why they waited until the last moment, or how long I have been...like this. I know nothing. Nothing but what they told me and my own instincts."

"Yet you interacted with your childhood friends with ease." He leaned against the wall beside me.

I huffed a weak, humorless laugh. "The nuns described them, and I guessed the rest. I just appear to have guessed right."

"Not even _they_ know? Does your mother?"

"My..." I frowned, trying desperately to remember my mother's face. I had a mother, according to the nuns. "Marie de Guise. I know her not."

"To not even know your own mother... Mary, I don't understand. Why not tell us of this before?"

"Scotland-"

"I know! Scotland must appear strong, which means Scotland's _queen_ must appear strong, but why not tell the French royal family in discretion?"

"Would your father keep it a secret? Your step-mother, who has made no secret of her contempt for me? Would they not attempt to look into it? Into what _caused_ the a-..." I couldn't even bring myself to say it. "They would tell others. Perhaps guards to protect me. Perhaps servants who served me as a child. Perhaps physicians they hire to aid me. It _would_ get out, and the English would know. You must _not_ tell anyone! No one can know! It is why I explore the castle now! I hope to gain...it all back with exploration and time."

"And you're so certain your plan would work..."

I turned to him then. "It already is!" I watched him watching me, noting the way he seemed to pay completely undivided attention to me. He was leaning against the wall, but did so facing me with his arms folded over his chest. It was...a bit intimidating, actually. The way his eyes were focused on me. The way his body was turned my way. He was listening to _me_ and only _me. _He was _watching_ me and only me.

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

And I realized he wanted proof. I sighed, shaking my head. "I haven't _seen_ anything yet, but I hear voices. Faint. Indistinct. I can never make out what they're saying, but they're _right_ there, so very close!" I heard them echoing in my head. "Children's voices. Laughing. Whispering."

He frowned deeply, and I could tell my news troubled him a great deal.

"Please!" I reached out and placed my hand on his arm, watching his eyes go straight to it. "I beg of you! Do _not_ tell anyone! Give me some time!"

His eyes shot to me and narrowed, and he sighed loudly. "You're asking me to _lie_ to my family!"

"No! I'm not!" I shook my head violently. "They have no reason to ask, and therefore you have no reason to lie! I'm simply asking that you don't go out of your way and _tell_ them!"

"If my father were to find out-"

"I would tell him you were aiding Scotland. That I manipulated you! Or that you didn't know to begin with!"

"_That_ is a lie."

"And it wouldn't be your first!"

Even as he stiffened, something flashed in my head, and suddenly, I gasped sharply. A jagged pain ran through my head, and I found myself crying out as I grabbed at my temples and a sharp, white hot, throbbing _agony_ rippled across my brain!

**Flashback**

_"Lumenick dushkader. Et sprago faraha. Ay raynim doluchtai."_

**End Flashback**

"Mary? Mary!"

It was the nearly painfully tight grip on my arms that knocked me out of the strange image. It was dark, almost black, but I was staring at what was undeniably _Sebastian's_ face as he drew a blade across his palm. The words echoed over and over again in my head, like some kind of mantra, until my mind was consciously whispering them endlessly, quickly working to memorize and grab everything it could.

I leaned forward, gasping, as the pain slowly faded. It left an angry throbbing behind my eyes, and I felt very much overheated all of a sudden, but as my legs shook, I found myself reaching out and wrapping my fingers tightly into whatever edges of the leather doublet I could, gasping loudly and heavily for breath.

"Mary?"

Struggling to lift my eyes to his face, I could see a sharp edge to his features. I didn't know what it was, but I leaned against him, nearly hyperventilating as I clung to him for dear life, gasping and panting as I shook there on the steps.

"What was that?" He asked, his tone as sharp as the expression he wore.

Shaking my head lightly, I winced and managed to drag my one hand from his doublet, placing it at my temple. _Was that...a memory? No. It couldn't be! Sebastian looked the same age as he does now!_

"Mary... _Why_ did you say that?"

Looking into his eyes, it finally hit me. That sharp edge was _shock_ and _alarm_! I'd said something that had _shaken_ him! He looked at me, eyes _begging_ for an answer...and I didn't have one.

"Mary!"

"I-I...I don't...know..."

* * *

><p><span><strong>Note<strong> : I was going to do a 'But _I'd_ save you!' scene between Mary and Francis, but the story took me elsewhere. Before anyone asks, it's not an intentional snub towards Francis or Frary. They _will_ have their moments. I'm just picking bits and pieces out of the story to use, and not _all_ of them will be used. ;)

**Written** : Feb 2, 2014

Hope you like it.

R+R please.

Thank you.

Kitten


	4. Dark Secrets?

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Reign, any of its affiliates, or anything I might choose to cross it over with. I only own my OC(s).

* * *

><p>Sebastian did <em>not<em> like my answer.

He questioned me, insistently at that. I almost told him about the strange words. 'Lumenick dushkader. Et sprago faraha. Ay raynim doluchtai.'. Whatever that meant. The words continued to echo in my head, and I was sorely tempted to tell him about them, except...the image that accompanied them was one of him. At night. In the woods. Cutting his hand and bleeding on the ground.

_Witchcraft?_

He was also clearly _very_ close to the age he was now, or _of_ the age he was now, which was confusing since technically the last time I should have seen him should have been six years ago.

However, when the headache refused to fade entirely, and I couldn't give him anything more, he settled for settling me down on the stairs, where I could take a moment or fifty to gather my thoughts once more. He fell quiet, but I could tell from the look on his face that he was very much bothered by what I'd said.

What _had_ I said, anyways?

_'And it wouldn't be your first!'._

Eventually, he sighed, telling me he was expected outside. I once more found myself begging him _not_ to tell anyone, and he reluctantly promised, as long as _I_ promised I would keep him updated on anything and everything I remembered, as I remembered it, and as long as I understood that _if_ anyone in his family asked directly, he would not lie. I suppose keeping a secret and lying were two fine lines to him, and while one was okay, the other was not. I made the promise, hiding a hand under my skirt at the side of my knee, and crossing two fingers. I had no intention of honoring it, no matter _how_ horrible a person it made me.

I didn't know if I _could_ tell him.

That image haunted me.

It made _no_ sense!

I couldn't make an honest promise with him, until I'd entirely eliminated _him_ as a possible suspect in how I _got_ like this!

Oh, I hope the beautiful, seemingly _perfect_ man before he wasn't responsible!

He escorted me to the infirmary. With my head throbbing as angrily as it was, I didn't feel like exploring anymore. In fact, the pain was _just_ bad enough to drive me slowly batty, and thankfully, Sebastian was kind enough to take me to Nostradamus, where I could see about getting something to ease the pain in my head. I was given a tea, and the bastard took off at his first given opportunity.

"How are you feeling?"

It had been a bit since I drank the medicinal 'potion' Nostradamus had created, and the throb in my head had _finally_ faded. I still felt out of sorts. Disoriented. Discombobulated The feverish feeling and the pain were gone, but I was distracted and confused. I looked over at Nostradamus. The man had been blunt, curious and kind, but I couldn't shake a lingering unease about him.

Maybe it was all the dark clothing he wore.

He looked a bit intimidating.

But...his potion _had_ worked.

"Better. Thank you."

"Are you certain you do not know what caused this headache? I have seen few so powerful as to so adversely affect someone."

"I fear I am prone to them. This isn't my first, and I doubt it will be my last." A lie. If that was a memory, was it logical to assume future ones might come with a headache like this, as well? "I apologize in advance, for I feel I will most likely come to monopolize your time, good sir."

He nodded. "It would be best if you did come to me, should anymore headaches strike you down."

"Oh, there's no worries about that. You'll be the first person I go to."

"Good. You may return to your duties now, if you wish. I believe it is still quite some time before the wedding ceremony, if you wish to continue your explorations. Shall I send for a servant to aid you?" He stood and wandered over to the bed, placing the back of his hand against my forehead briefly, before pulling back, seemingly satisfied.

"Actually, yes, if you don't mind. I believe I could use some assistance. I fear I don't remember my way around the castle."

He nodded once more, before heading to the door.

Within moments, a young girl was shown in, and we made our way out. We didn't dally. I wanted out of there. I felt stifled in the infirmary which had probably seen a _lot_ of blood...and death... Not to mention, there was something about his eyes that I wasn't sure I liked. I bid a fond, grateful thanks and farewell, and nearly ran out the door, and past the guards beyond it, almost dragging the girl behind me.

We simply walked for a few moments, me making sure Sterling remained close by and more or less lost in thought, before a thought hit me. _It's been a while since Sterling's been outside._ "Can you show me to the main doors?" I asked lightly, snapping my fingers in order to get Sterling to follow me.

The girl nodded. "Yes, Your Grace."

We wandered quickly to the very same doors I'd seen multiple times today already, and I sighed, staring at them. Turning to the girl, I bowed my head thankfully. "Thank you. You may return to your duties now. I believe I can find my own way from here."

She nodded, curtseying, before turning and leaving.

I watched her go, a bit surprised and _more_ than happy she didn't try to summon a guard to go with me, or protest me dismissing her in favor of going out alone. Guards guarded the front door, but other than glancing at me, they said and did nothing as well as I stared back. There was no sign of recognition. Maybe not _all_ at the castle had come out to see the young queen rushed back into their midst earlier.

Immediately, I wandered outside. I took advantage of the momentary lapse in knowledge, remembering that Greer had at one point earlier made a brief mention that I was not to go anywhere outside of the castle alone, due to my royal heritage. The cold air was a blast against my sticky face, making me shiver and wrap the cloak tightly around my arms as I pressed forward, down the stone path and towards the lake in the distance.

Pyres had been set up now.

Three of them.

I had no idea when they went up, or what specific purpose they went up, but they burned slightly as the sun began to set, giving off a cooler, damper evening. I could feel the moisture clinging to the air, and smell the smells of the lake and swamp. Bullfrogs croaked and crickets chirped as Sterling and I wandered towards the edge of the lake before us.

"What is it about this place? Why am I remembering more _here_ than I did at the Convent?" I frowned as I walked across the expansive, perfectly manicured lawn and yard, to the distant shore of the lake. This wasn't the _same_ place I'd arrived. This was more...isolated. In the far distance sat a stables, where hands worked. The pyres burned dangerously around me, and yet I knew I was far enough from each one to be safe.

A cold wind blew, freezing my ankles and calves as I walked, and blowing my hair around my face. Rubbing lightly at my face, I could feel the hot spots where tears and sweat still lingered, reminding me I'd have to wash up before the party tonight.

On that note, was it even a good idea to still _go_?

After that episode on the stairs... What if I had another? What did it _mean_? Why was Sebastian taking part in what _looked_ like witchcraft? Why was _I_ seeing it? Had he done something to me? Was _he_ the reason I couldn't remember?

"Lumenick dushkader. Et sprago faraha. Ay raynim doluchtai." The words slipped off my tongue with ease. _Why_ were these foreign words so very easy for me to speak? How could I know I spoke them right, and _how_ did the meaning of the words appear out of thin air in my head? "'Deep the roots. Dark the night. Red the blood I will pay'." A prayer or a chant. Wiccan, maybe? Pagan?

A short, sharp pain (far duller than the first, I supposed, because of the tea) came to my head, and chanting voices echoed in my head, speaking words over and over again that I couldn't identify. There was another dark flash of unmistakable blue eyes and what looked like cloth walls. Just as quickly as it came, it fled.

_Pagan?_

Were there Pagans in the land?

I could ask Sebastian. If it was _his_ face I saw, undoubtedly _he_ could answer my questions, right? But then again, there was that nagging doubt. I'd seen him, at very close to present age, in the dark, in the woods, making what _looked_ like a blood sacrifice and _chanting_.

I was so lost in my swirling thoughts as I walked along the shoreline, that when Sterling began to bark and walk briskly towards the looming woods, I jerked with surprise and my eyes widened. "Sterling! STERLING!" I began to walk after him, hoping the dog would stop and listen to me, but he only broke into a slight jog. "Sterling, come back! _Sterling_! Stop! Come back here! Sterling? _STERLING!_"

Hurrying after the dog, I saw the looming woods before me. The day was gray and cold, making the woods appear gloomier and the shadows appear larger and more ominous. I followed after the dog, but I couldn't help the tendril of fear as I wandered towards the massive, dark woods that he was hurrying for.

"STERLING!" I broke into a slight jog, the movement unsteady in the tight corset hidden under my pretty blue silk dress. I tried to ignore the way the cape flared behind me, leaving my bare arms bared to the cold wind. "_STERLING STOP!_"

"Mary! No, Mary!"

I heard _his_ voice, and felt my gut clenching. What was he doing here? Was he watching me? Wasn't he needed somewhere? I turned to cast a glance his way, watching him _ride_ over on a horse, while three other men rode on towards the castle. Out of my peripheral, I noticed one had rabbits hanging off the side of his saddle.

_Hunters?_

I turned back, watching Sterling disappearing into the woods. _Crap! No!_ "STERLING COME BACK! STERLING!" I hurried onwards, despite Sebastian calling me repeatedly, an edge to his voice that I did _not_ like.

Then, just as quickly as I approached the woods, I felt a tight grip wrap around my arm with _far _too much familiarity, and I was pulled back. Before I could do more than gasp in surprise, an equally as tight and warm grip came around my other arm, until I was twisted to stare into hard blue eyes, and trapped in a vice-like grip that...I enjoyed _far_ too much.

I could feel the flare of the heat in my cheeks, and prayed they were flushed enough from the cold to hide it.

"Young girls-royals-_queens_ do not leave the castle alone!" Sebastian's expression was hard and his entire body must have been tense, if the near painful grip on my arms was anything to go by.

"But my dog-"

"Let him go. Do _not_ go into those woods?"

A strange feeling came over me, and I found myself frowning at him. Voices echoed in my head, and a dull throbbing had started. The pain wasn't sharp or agonizing, but it _was_ disorienting all over again. I could hear myself having this conversation, but something wasn't right. Something was off.

"Mary?"

"Why?" I shook my head, thinking of the image of him cutting his head, and the image of him chanting some foreign language. _Is he the enemy?_ I couldn't confront him. Not here. Not so far from the castle, that he could drag me into the forest and kill me before anyone noticed we were gone.

Then, I cringed internally.

_Wrong. _

_He wouldn't._

**Flashback**

_His expression was troubled. _

_He rode beside a strange man, talking. I couldn't make out their words, but his horse moved on ahead, and he blinked several times rapidly, looking dazed. I could see by the hard set of his eyes and the sharp way his lips moved that he seemed to be upset by something. I watched him pull his horse around next to the stranger's, and without looking at him, he said something._

_The other man responded, looking scared._

_And suddenly, he lashed out with both hands, pushing the man off his horse and forcing him to fall head first down off the side of the cliff beside them._

**End Flashback**

I felt like I'd been kicked.

I stared at the man before me who was calling my name, and my eyes suddenly began to burn. My chest tightened with sudden fear, and my head throbbed madly. "Y-Y-Y-..." It couldn't be. Could it be a misinterpretation? Was the man a spy or a murderer, perhaps?

"Mary?" He'd moved closer, his eyes looking concerned now. "Mary! Are you well?! Should I take you back to Nostradamus?"

I was nearly hyperventilating.

Internally, I noted that I'd have to get more of those teas. See if I could drink them daily to head off the majority of the pain. I still felt disoriented and weak, but it was a hell of a lot better than _blind_ with pain, disoriented and weak! Outwardly, I pulled back, straightening, struggling once more to pull that calm, cool mask over my features once more.

I couldn't show him I was afraid of him. I couldn't show him I knew he was some kind of monster. If I did, I would die. Even as the thought twisted in my stomach, and a very _large_ part of my head screamed 'No! You're wrong!', I found myself brushing out my dress. He couldn't know. I couldn't tell him!

"Did you remember something?"

"What's in those woods, besides my dog, who I might've caught if you hadn't stopped me?" I asked instead, struggling to ignore the shaky, weak tone to my voice. Who was this man? What did he want from me?

"He'll find his way back." He blinked, before smiling slightly, though the look didn't reach his eyes. "There's food and warmth. Who wouldn't want to be at the castle?" He stared into my eyes a moment, before smirking, though his eyes remained narrowed and the humored expression looked strained. "Except perhaps for you. Rather be at the Convent would you? Eating porridge and dredging through mud?"

I opened my mouth, before frowning. The throb in my head had yet to fade, but as I found myself recalling the nun I'd watched bleeding- "I don't believe I will ever eat porridge again, after watching a woman choking on her own blood and the life draining from her eyes before she fell face down into hers." Shaking my head, I took a step back, away from him, feeling more and more ease filling me as I did so. "Since you chose to interrupt my search for my dog, and claim to know these woods so well, I will leave the retrieval of Sterling to you, Your Grace."

He bowed slightly, looking sincere and open once more. Gone was his earlier amusement. "Call me Sebastian, or preferably Bash, Mary."

I didn't answer. I'd called him that before. _Sebastian_, anyways. Now that snippets of..._something_ were coming back to me, and they were all painting him in a negative light, I wasn't sure I could continue to do so. Turning my back to him, I began to walk towards the castle, stiff and rigid.

Just who _was_ Sebastian de Poitiers?

And...did the king know?

* * *

><p><strong>Written<strong> : Feb 2, 2014

Hope you like it.

R+R please.

Thank you.

Kitten


	5. Near Confession

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Reign, any of its affiliates, or anything I might choose to cross it over with. I only own my OC(s).

* * *

><p><strong>(Later)<strong>

**Flashback**

_"Taste of love and sorrow, but do not drink the wine! Don't!"_

**End Flashback**

I shivered as I found myself dressing in a beautiful emerald green, silk, off the shoulders gown. It had a beautiful white lace trim around the somewhat low neckline and the long, flowing hem, and thick straps instead of sleeves. While the dresses of some of the other ladies were overly flashy and full and poofy, mine was long and sleek, flowing around my ankles as I wandered from the small vanity mirror to the full length mirror, not too far away.

The dress had an under bust corset that went over top of it, in the deepest onyx black, that cinched my waist in to an almost uncomfortable degree, and my hair had been lowered from the side braids, and instead pulled partially back out of my face with large silver sapphire comb on either side.

I decided to forego using a crown, with the sapphire jeweled combs, the thick choker of sapphires I wore around my neck, the old silver locket that was probably the oddest of all my jewelry, and yet something I found I _couldn't_ take off, my large, dangling sapphire earrings, and the thin chain of sapphires wrapped around my one wrist.

It was all sapphires.

All blue, green and a hint of white.

I looked at myself in the mirror, knowing my ladies were preparing in their own chambers, and caught sight of the privacy screen on the other side of my bed in the reflection.

**Flashback**

_"Hello? Is someone there?"_

_"Taste of love and sorrow, but do not drink the wine. Don't!"_

**End Flashback**

The images had been playing over and over in my head since the warning, and the finding out of the hidden passage way behind that wall tapestry. I'd been warned. I didn't know by who. 'Do _not_ drink the wine'. Meaning someone was going to try to hurt me. Should I tell the king and queen? This was their palace. How could they allow someone to threaten me?

Or were they aware? Were they _in_ on it? The nuns had told me to be wary of who I trusted. That there might even be enemies in _French _Court, of all places. Were they right?

My head throbbed angrily, and I decided I would look for Nostradamus at the party, in the hopes that he would be able to prescribe something more powerful.

I couldn't explain it. The pain had yet to fully fade. It came and went. Sometimes it went to the point that I was sure it was gone, even if for only a moment, only to have a throb tell me otherwise.

No more images came to me, but voices whispered harshly in the back of my mind, swirling around and around, and I wasn't able to understand _one_ of them!

_What _is_ this? Is it insanity? Am I insane, and I just don't know it yet?_

I stared at my reflection in the mirror.

That _was_ me in all that finery. Large, dark brown eyes framed with thick lashes and a thin line of kohl eyeliner, which only made them seem larger and darker. Small, full lips tinted pink with a cream, and a slight flush to my cheeks that was, thankfully enough, wholly natural. My long, dark brown hair was pulled back in a mass of gentle curls to fall down my back, leaving only a few loose tendrils framing my face elegantly, and I glittered and shone.

I was ready for the party, I supposed.

A knock at my door sounded then, and it opened. Sarah, my personal servant and page, walked in and bowed to me.

"His Highness, Prince Francis, Your Grace."

I raised an eyebrow. Should he have been coming to my chambers? I was to be escorted to the party, I knew, but I had guessed I'd be going with my ladies. Maybe I was wrong. I nodded to her, my silent assent, and watched as she bowed and left, before my so-called _betrothed_ walked in. Immediately, I felt my eyebrows hiking up.

Granted, he _was_ a very handsome man, and he seemed kind enough, if a bit distant in the short amount of time we'd had to chat. He wore mostly black now, which...suited him, I supposed. Maybe it was the contrast of sun-kissed skin and hair and blue sapphire eyes against the midnight black. Or maybe it was because there was something about the color that made him seem somehow more roguish.

"Mary." He bowed, staring at me with slightly wide eyes. "You look..."

"Is it that bad? I don't believe style is my forte." I turned to the mirror uneasily. I'd only had help with my hair and the corset. The rest I'd insisted on doing, myself.

"No! Quite the contrary. You look lovely. I thought I would come and check up on you. Bash said he ran into you earlier, wandering outside, alone, and you seemed upset about something."

I froze a bit. _He hasn't mentioned the... But why is 'Bash' telling him _anything_?_ "I'm quite fine. I fear I have a headache that refuses to fade, but Nostradamus gave me something earlier to ease the pain for the time being. I suppose I'll simply have to suffer through it." I brushed my fingers through my hair uneasily. _Damn you, Sebastian!_

"I'm sorry to hear about your headache. I suppose it _has_ been a rather long and stressful day for you. Perhaps the wedding celebration will help you to relax and feel more at ease."

It was funny. I didn't know him, and yet I knew how to tell when his smile was as forced as my own. "Perhaps." I didn't believe it would, but I turned towards him, fidgeting with my signet ring slightly with nerves.

"Ah... Would you...do me the honors of allowing me to escort you to the party?" He held out his arm.

I nodded silently, still forcing that smile, as I walked over and accepted his arm. I curled my hand around the crook of his arm, resting my fingers on top of it slightly, but not moving too close to him. The movement felt awkward to me. Betrothed or not, I felt..._nothing_ for this man. Certainly, he _was_ handsome. There _was_ a physical attraction, I supposed, but it was barely there. Hardly worth noting, because while I wouldn't turn down his affections, I did _not_ return them.

_So much for a love-filled, happy relationship._ I thought as I followed him out of the room, pausing only long enough to pull away and close my door, before walking at his side, through the halls. We no longer touched, but walked silently side-by-side down long halls and corridors, past countless guards and servants, and finally down a large flight of stairs, before I found myself being led into a large room full of laughter and music.

"I see your ladies are all ready here. I'll leave you to catch up to them." Francis bowed at the waist.

I bowed my head and curtsied slightly. "Thank you, Your Grace." With my eyes fixed on the very girls I'd spotted the moment I entered the room, I walked briskly over to them, watching the way they watched me. "What?"

"Oh, nothing." Kenna shook her head.

Greer was frowning. "How are you to win his heart if you're not even trying?"

"I have a headache, Greer." I put in mildly, slanting a look her way.

"Yes, that _is_ a popular excuse." Kenna grinned.

Unable to help myself, I found myself laughing a little. "I suppose it is. However, in this case, I fear it isn't an excuse." My smile faded. "I've been fighting off one of the worst headaches I can _ever_ recall having. Even some of the physician's medicines have not been able to fully remove the pain." I told them honestly.

"The physician? The soothsayer Nostradamus?"

"'Soothsayer'." I paused. _Isn't that a type of seer? One who gets visions?_

**Flashback**

_"The lion will fight the dragon in a field of poppies."_

_"You will fall in love with a man with a white mark on his face."_

_"You will never go home."_

**End Flashback**

Wincing sharply, I put a hand to my temple and found myself swaying a bit on the spot as broken, meaningless images flit across my mind. I saw three faces. A beautiful brunette woman I did _not_ recognize, Greer and Aylee. The last of which appeared to be the most ominous.

"Mary?"

"I'm fine." I frowned absently. _Who was that girl? Greer and Aylee...looked like they do now. As old as they are now._ I shook my head, struggling to shake it all off, though the increased pain lingered. "Really. It's nothing. Like I said, headache." I couldn't think on it now. I had to focus. I had to act like everything was well.

I gently patted Greer's hand, which was on my arm as she seemed to feel I might need steadying. "I'm fine." I shot her an admittedly shaky smile. "I simply need a drink, which I shall fetch myself, while my lovely ladies go and enjoy the party!" I waved my hands at them dismissively, repeating myself with a firm-yet-amused look when they hesitated.

"All right, but if you need us-"

"I'll find you."

I watched them go and laughed lightly as I wandered off. Then, slowly, the laughter faded, and my hand found its way to my temple once more. This would be a permanent look for me, if I didn't watch myself. The aches kept on coming. It seemed to take the slightest things to bring on these strange flashes, and though they _appeared_ to be memories, or clips of possible memories, they didn't make _sense_.

Grabbing a goblet of wine from a passing servant, I found a pillar near the back corner of the room while Elizabeth and Philip danced. I hadn't attended the wedding. Not out of distaste or anything hostile, but I'd had a long day and needed a chance to gather myself and settle. It had been _Henry's_ suggestion that my ladies and I skip the ceremony, since our presence wasn't influential or necessary in any way, and attend the party after to help us unwind.

Leaning heavily against the pillar, I found my eyes searching through the crowd.

_What do they mean?_

The one with what was unmistakably Nostradamus' voice speaking held a strange woman sitting among my ladies. Not me. Not me in _any_ sense, but sitting with my ladies with a sense of familiarity and ease, as though she belonged there.

And the one which was really just clips of chanting and a man cutting his hand with a knife, telling me that Sebastian had more secrets than he cared to let on. Yet, how _I_ knew them...

Speaking of the bastard prince-

He weaved his way through the crowd, appearing seemingly out of nowhere with his body encased in a dark brown velvety shirt with fine golden sewing along the neckline and the opening down the front. He wore a sleeveless black leather vest that fell to almost his knees, and black leather pants.

Like his brother, dark colors very much suited him.

Unlike Francis, I found myself _very_ much drawn to this man.

This man with the secrets.

"Your Grace." He bowed lowly, looking up at me through his thick, dark lashes with those incredible blue eyes, before he straightened. He offered a smirk, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Are you well? I saw you enter with my brother, speak with your ladies, wince and grab your head like you were in pain, and then run to hide in the shadows."

"I am not hiding."

"You're sitting in the shadows, against a pillar, instead of mingling with the guests."

I could have answered him. I had a saucy remark on the edge of my tongue, just begging to be spat at him. However, as I noted the gravity in his eyes as he stared at me, I found myself remaining silent. I could tell he was waiting.

When I offered nothing in return, he raised an eyebrow. "I believe we had a deal, Your Grace." He looked around, raising the goblet to his lips as he did so, and keeping it there as he spoke quietly. "I would remain silent about your..._condition_ on the agreement that you would tell me as your memories returned."

"And who said they have?"

"Your actions at the woods, for one. You seemed very frightened of something." He turned to me. "Mary... We're your allies. You _can_ trust us. You can trust _me_." He laughed, almost sourly. "I am bastard born. I will never be king. I have no power, nor title, but that which my father gives me. I have nothing to gain from betraying or harming you."

I stared at him a long moment, weighing my options. "And if my...'memories' tell me otherwise?" I watched him blink at me in confusion. "I saw things that don't make sense. Things that..._if_ they are true, tell me that you..." I turned away then.

"That I _what_?" His voice was sharp and low. Deadly.

I couldn't say. The words 'cannot be trusted' came to mind, but just because I saw him acting strangely, didn't mean he was _trying_ to hurt me. I'd seen nothing to prove he _was_. _Was_ he a threat? _Could_ I trust him? He was dangerous, maybe even deadly, but was he dangerous to _me_ was the question.

"Mary-"

"Mary, there you are!"

I jumped, startled, and turned to find Aylee walking over. I frowned in confusion. Hadn't I _just_ sent her away?

"Forgive me for interrupting." She curtsied to us, eyeing Sebastian with a strange wariness in her eyes.

"It's quite all right." When I glanced at him, he'd bowed back with a charming smile, and no hint of anything remotely heavy on his features. I watched him lean off the pillar, before turning to me lightly. "I'll leave you lovely ladies to chat. It was nice catching up with you, Mary. The castle has been positively _gloomy_ without your lovely smiles gracing our halls." He raised his goblet to me before turning and walking away.

"Be careful with him, Mary." Aylee murmured, walking over. "He has a terrible reputation with women. They say he knows no bounds!" Her look was concerned.

I frowned at her. None of that meant anything to me. It wasn't like I _knew_ what she was talking about. Shoving it aside, I swirled my wine in my goblet, raising it to take a drink, before remembering the warning and lowering it once more. "What can I do for you, Aylee?"

Her eyes widened. "Oh!" Suddenly, she was all smiles. "Lola wanted to introduce you to her betrothed, Colin!"

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><p><strong>Written<strong> : Feb 3, 2014

Hope you like it.

R+R please.

Thank you.

Kitten


	6. Attacked

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Reign, any of its affiliates, or anything I might choose to cross it over with. I only own my OC(s).

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><p>I danced.<p>

I couldn't say where I got the moves. One moment I saw Lola's pained face as she watched her betrothed greet me and offer me more wine, since I'd ditched my last glass (I didn't drink _that_ one, either), and the next, I was impulsively dragging her and my other ladies out onto the dance floor to do a traditional Scottish number.

I couldn't say what pushed me, but I took their hands and skipped in a circle, before breaking up into smaller circles with them and twirling around and around. The beginning had been fun, if frightening, since I didn't think I knew _how_ to dance, or why I felt the _need_ to do so. It was like something deep inside pushed me. As we moved, each move became easier and easier, until I was twirling around and around in the dead center of the room, and people were dancing all around me.

It wasn't until the feathers began to tickle my face and arms that I stopped and looked up.

They fell in an endless waterfall of little, fluffy white feathers, landing on and around me, and on the people dancing around me who hadn't seemed to notice I'd stopped. I looked around, watching my friends as they danced happily, laughing giddily and enjoying themselves thoroughly.

Then, my eyes caught _his_.

Sebastian.

He was watching me with a small, almost invisible smirk of amusement that lit up and danced in his eyes, from the sidelines. I heaved deep breaths as I stared at him, images of him in the woods at night, cutting his hand and saying those words haunting me. I watched his eyes narrow, and the way he tilted his head curiously.

Feeling a small, internal tug, I tore my eyes off him and let them drift to his right a bit.

And there stood Francis.

He was looking up at the ceiling, coated in feathers, but as I looked at him, he looked down and instantly locked eyes on me. The strange look in his eyes made me wonder if he was remembering something. I stared at him, and I watched the small, fond smile that crossed his features as he took a step away from the sidelines, towards me.

Suddenly, I felt myself being shoved ever so slightly.

"It's time for the Consummation ceremony!" Kenna was giggling softly with a scandalous look on her features. "The mystery...the intrigue... Aren't you curious?"

Before I had a chance to respond, she dragged me out of the room, pausing only long enough for us to gather our shoes before we left once more. I didn't even really know or remember what a 'Consummation' ceremony was, but the way Aylee flushed and instantly got nervous, I decided I wasn't sure I wanted to find out.

So I bowed out.

By now, I'd had certain halls memorized. I bowed out of spying on the ceremony, which apparently we weren't even _allowed_ to watch, and wandered off down the halls, my mind spinning.

Francis was remembering something, and judging by his look, he must have expected _me_ to, as well.

Sebastian appeared to be quite curious about me and my memories. Why it mattered to _him_ what I remembered was beyond me. As long as he kept my secret... But...could I trust him? No one questioned my strange behavior. No one told me they _knew_. He clearly hadn't told anyone, but...was he _safe_? Could I trust him not to use or betray me?

I thought about it briefly, before deciding I would just have to talk to him. Was it dangerous? Yes. Should I just avoid him, even though I could have been misinterpreting what I saw. I had _years_ of information locked away in my head, and though this was clearly recent, it couldn't have been related since I'd been at the Convent until earlier this morning, and the castle _was_ a good distance away from said Convent.

I hurried off to my chambers to change into a long, white night gown. I didn't even bother with servants to do more than get me out of my corset, before I was shooing them out and stripping on my own. I stripped out of all my jewelry but my locket, and blew out all the candles around the room, before sliding beneath the covers.

It felt like only minutes before darkness began to move in, and my body relaxed. The room was silent, but for the faint sound of waves hitting the shore out my window, and a breeze rustling through the woods not so far away. The light of the moon shone in a window near my bed, and I could feel the sweet call of dream land, wondering what I'd dream of tonight.

I honestly wouldn't have _minded_ a dream of a certain prince, but only in a certain context that didn't involve bloodshed or death or fear of any kind.

I tried to dismiss the thought as soon as it hit me.

I was _betrothed_!

I didn't have the right to think like that about _any_ man but my soon-to-be husband!

Breathing deeply and serenely, I shoved the thought out of my mind. It had no place when I was _so_ relaxed and feeling sleep drawing me deeper into it's embrace. I felt my sheets shifting, and vaguely wondered if I should have closed the window. It _was_ threatening to rain earlier.

Oh well.

But _just_ as I was about to give myself over to sleep entirely, my sheets shifted again.

And then they were _ripped_ off me, and I heard the sound of metal.

Gasping, I sat up sharply, eyes snapping open! Seeing a figure leaning over me, my eyes widened, and I shrieked loudly! I _screamed_! "GUARDS!" Suddenly, the figure was moving closer, and I raised my hands, trying to shove them back as fear gnawed at me! "GUARDS! _NO!_"

"No! Your Grace, wait! Please!" The figure leaned forward, slipping out of the shadows and into the moonlight.

I saw the face before me and froze, even as a hand clamped over my mouth. _Colin?!_ I gasped, before realizing his hand was over my nose and mouth, tightly, and I couldn't _breathe_! I shrieked again, my hands going to his one hand and trying to shove it off my face as I struggled to breath.

"Wait! PLEASE! You don't understand! She ordered it! She threatened me! I'm sorry!"

Curling up, I managed to get my feet between us, and _kicked_ with all my strength!

The hand was gone, and I sucked in a much needed breath of air was scrambling backwards and towards the other edge of the bed frantically. "GUARDS HELP! _GUARDS_!"

"Your Grace! Please, forgive me!"

I was off the bed, stumbling to the far wall, even as the door to my chambers flew open, and people rushed in. I watched as Colin was grabbed, hands going to my chest as my heart threatened to beat right out of it, and I watched as he was dragged off, _screaming_ for forgiveness!

"YOUR GRACE! I'M SORRY!"

Shaking, I leaned against the wall, heaving breath after breath and staring at the two guards who remained behind, clearly trying to tell if I'd been hurt or not. I sat there, panting and gasping, until my servant Sarah ran into the room, dressed in her night clothing. Abruptly, I was moving off the wall, nearly staggering through my room, and brushing off arms that reached for me whenever I swayed or stumbled.

"Leave me! Sarah, I wish to be dressed." My head was spinning. All I could think about was Colin leaning over me. How had he gotten into my room? Why had he ripped my blankets off? That wasn't the move of a man who wanted to kill me. Blankets wouldn't have stopped a dagger, so his intentions must have been something else. I shivered in horror at the thought.

"Your Grace-"

"GET OUT!" I shivered, wrapping my arms around me, and watching as the guards exchanged startled looks before bowing deeply and leaving the room, closing the door behind them, and leaving my innocent servant rushing around the room, lighting candles with the one she brought with her, so we could see.

I instantly felt bad. They'd come to my rescue, and I'd shrieked at them like a banshee to get out!

Poor Sarah looked scared as she rushed to my wardrobe. "Is there anything in particular-"

"No." I heaved a breath, shaking my head.

Disoriented.

That's what I was.

Someone had just attacked me. The guards had saved me. I didn't care if I was dressed to work in the fields or go to a party. I just wanted appropriate clothing for public.

"Anything is fine." I amended after a moment, taking another deep breath. "No corsets, though. The last thing I want at this moment is to feel bound in _any_ way." At her nod, I ran my hands up and down my arms, pacing. _Colin. That was Lola's betrothed._ I looked at the bed. The whole thing felt like a blur. It felt like it had happened in seconds. Colin's shadow loomed over me, and the memory caused me to shiver once more.

Then he was ripping the blankets off me.

Not sliding them off me. Not sneaking them off me. He _ripped_ them off me! One quick, sharp move, and then he'd seemed _startled_ when I awoke!

_The wine..._

**Flashback**

_"Don't drink the wine! Don't!_

**End Flashback**

I dressed with sharp, jerky movements, snapping unintentionally at Sarah more than once...and then apologizing afterwards. I felt shaky, disoriented, discombobulated, confused... I wanted... I wanted... Well, I wanted the asshole _hung_ for attacking me as he did! But...at the same time...the _fear_ in his voice nagged at something deep inside me. He was _afraid_! Why would he attack me and then be scared?

Something felt off.

Something in the back of my mind raised a red flag, and I suddenly felt stifled, surrounded, and backed into a corner. Something was _wrong_, and I couldn't place it! Once I was dressed, and my hair was brushed out, and my side braids and crown were back in place, I slipped my feet into my slippers.

I decided to forego my accessories.

I kept my signet ring. It would do too much damage if it should fall into the wrong hands, but all other jewelry but the locket remained hidden away in the box on my dresser, while I stole out of my room. Guards stood at attendance, looking wary of me, and I paid them no heed.

Why was I out here?

What did I hope to accomplish?

I needed answers.

Stalking down the halls, my head throbbed angrily. It felt as though the tea had worn off, and the pain disoriented me as much as the attack itself. One of the guards immediately fell into step with me as I walked, and I watched him suspiciously, but said nothing. After all, being guarded now should make me feel safer, right?

"I wish to go to the dungeon." I paused, frowning and wincing. "Rather, I wish to go to the infirmary, first, and then the dungeons. Has my attacker been subdued? Arrested?" Attacker. Scottish boy. Lola's betrothed. Would be...murderer...or rapist?

Why was he so _scared_?

"Yes, Your Grace. He was taken to the dungeons."

"Good. See he's kept there. I will find my way down there shortly. I want answers."

"Your Grace-"

"I. Want. Answers." I paused, staring at the guard. Or..._glaring_ at him, as the expression on my face didn't _feel_ very pleasant. "This man was one of my own. Scottish. I intend to know what he hoped to accomplish by attacking his queen." Well, no. I _knew_ what he'd intended, but what I wanted to know was _why_.

He bowed deeply. "As Your Grace desires."

"I would have you go and ensure he still has his head when I get down here." My eyes narrowed dangerously. "I will be along momentarily." My hands clenched in my skirts as I struggled to dispel the shakes that had settled in faintly, making me feel like I was endlessly shivering from a cold I didn't feel.

I wasn't hurt. It failed. I was okay.

I had to be strong.

Scotland needed a _strong_ queen!

"Yes, Your Grace."

I had to be strong.

_Be strong..._

I watched the guard wander off, heart pounding in my chest, before turning and marching down the halls. Guards rushed around. A new one took up place behind me, and I dismissed him. He didn't like it, but I couldn't shake the unease at his presence. It was strange. I should have felt _reassured_ by the presence of French Guards. Allied Guards. And yet, I felt _more_ frightened and uneasy in their presence!

I sent guard after guard away, arms wrapped around myself as I wore my pretty sleeveless dress from before and stalked through the halls of the castle. My head throbbed angrily, and I paused at the top of a set of stunning mahogany stairs leading down to the main hall, rubbing at my temple.

A small whine caught my attention.

My eyes widened and I looked to watch as Sebastian walked up the stairs. I found myself locked on stunning blue eyes which watched me with surprise and confusion, before the sound of another whine tore my eyes to the figure at his side.

"STERLING!" Before I could stop myself, I was all but flying down the stairs, dropping ungracefully to wrap my arms around the dog's neck. He whined lowly. I hugged him tightly. "Oh Sterling!" I paused, face buried in his neck, thinking about my circumstances, and the way my brain swirled foggily, making it hard to plan. "What'll I do?" I stared at the gray fur, noting the leaves and bits of grass and mud caught up in it.

_He was in the woods_.

**Flashback**

_"Do not go into those woods!"_

**End Flashback**

_He talked about them like they were dangerous, but went in after a _dog_. For _me_._ I found myself looking up and over at Bash, who stared down at me with a kind look in his eyes, and the very edges of his lips curled up. It hit me then, I'd ignored him in favor of a _dog_. "I'm sorry." I looked down, stroking Sterling's fur. "It's just been _so_ hard."

"I know."

My head throbbed warningly. "So much harder than I thought it would be."

"You're not alone here."

I stared at the fur, unable to lift my eyes. The voice echoed oddly in my head and I found myself shivering all over again, but it was _with_ that shiver that I realized...a good deal of my fear had faded. I felt...safe... I licked my lips. "I have my friends." _But... Lola... Colin..._

"I'm not talking about your friends."

Hearing his words, suddenly, I... I felt like I could trust him. Despite the images swirling in my head, I... I felt _safe_ with him. I looked up, right as he looked past us, down a long hall, and his body went rigid. Feeling the hair on the back of my neck standing, I took the makeshift leash that hung at Sterling's side and stood.

"Walk with me?"

He looked at me, clearly looking surprised. "I...am sorry, Your Grace." His eyes shot past us once more. "I fear I may be needed elsewhere."

"And if _I_ need you?"

I hadn't _meant_ to say it out loud. However, with Colin's face and the attack fresh in my mind, mixed with my own confusion and sense of loss, and the growing agony in my head, and..._everything_... I'd given no thought to the words as they passed through my mind. When he looked at me, I lowered my head, the apology already coming to the tip of my tongue.

I was a guest. I was a visitor. Queen of Scotland or no, I was in _France_ at the king's invitation, and bastard born or no, he _was_ a son of the king.

I opened my mouth, preparing to apologize...when I heard the sound of steps, and found two mud-lined boots coming into my field of view. I lifted my head, only to see the concerned look of the bastard at my side, even as he removed his leather trench coat and wrapped it around my shoulders with a small smile.

"Then we shall walk."

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><p><strong>Written<strong> : Feb 4, 2014

Hope you like it.

R+R please.

Thank you.

Kitten


	7. Conversations with a Bastard

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Reign, any of its affiliates, or anything I might choose to cross it over with. I only own my OC(s).

**Note** : This is an older story by several months. While it doesn't really feel up to par by my standards, I don't want to mess with it. I fear if I do, I'll ruin what _is_ good about it. So that's why I'm more or less posting as is.

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><p>It was strange.<p>

I felt like I was _running_ from something.

I mean, I wasn't _running._ I walked briskly, with a purpose to my steps, stopping only long enough to slip my arms into the baggy sleeves of Sebastian's jacket, before walking off once more. We didn't speak as we walked, and I let the silence give me the peace I needed to think. Which was difficult at first, with how disoriented I felt, and the strange, woodsy, musky, spicy scent that seemed to come off the warm jacket I now wore.

This was Sebastian, the man in my...memories...or visions...or whatever they were, and somehow I felt _safe_ with him. Safer with the man I'd seen chanting in a strange language and cutting his hand, and pushing a man off a horse, presumably to his_ death_, than with the guards! And yet, I felt like I could trust him. It was a feeling that, until now, I hadn't really noticed. Or...I'd noticed it, but never really _noticed_ it.

It was why I didn't run, despite seeing what I'd seen. It was why I didn't openly fear him.

A deep, ingrained trust that told me I was _safe_ with him.

We walked in silence for a while, taking a long walk towards the infirmary. Truthfully, I wanted to _talk_ to him, but at the same time, I knew it was only a matter of _minutes_, maybe, before I was sought out, so someone could get answers to what happened and why a boy was found in my room and detained in the dungeons.

"Mary?"

I looked over at Sebastian, who was watching me with a frown.

"You sounded as though you needed to talk."

I hummed. "I...just..." I looked forward, licking my lips once more. I felt thirsty. My throat felt gummy and dry. "I was attacked... Within an hour ago."

"Attacked?" He stiffed and turned sharply to me.

"I don't know... I mean, I _was_ attacked... I woke up, and there was a man on top of me. He...nearly smothered me with his hand over my face, but I managed to kick him away and scream for my guards, but...he seemed _quite_ frightened." I shook my head. "Not that, that excuses the attack. Truthfully, I feel safer with you than the guards." I admitted. It hit me as I stated the last statement that I was rambling a bit. Jumping around.

"Safer..." There was a brief sound, and I wasn't sure what it was, but when I turned my head to look, Bash was shaking his head and looking bemused. "That's not how it sounded earlier, when we spoke at the party." Then he paused. "The guards... Did they capture your attacker?"

I nodded.

"Are you injured?"

I shook my head, before wincing. "Just my head."

"Memories?"

I nodded once more. Then I paused and shook my head once more. "I don't know. I want to say yes, but they don't make sense. The last time I saw you was...how long ago?"

"Six years."

"I see." That meant that, if he was telling me the truth, and I had no reason to think otherwise, that what I'd seen _couldn't_ have been memories. I frowned deeply. _Then what were they? Illusions? Hallucinations?_

"Mary?"

"Do you know what...'Lumenick dushkader. Et sprago faraha. Ay raynim doluchtai' means?" I asked, deciding _not_ to bring up _his_ presence in relation to those words. I'd ask innocently for now. I wasn't ready for him to know I knew or suspected _his_ relation to the words, as if he did, that could be dangerous for _me_.

But as I spoke the words, his eyes widened, and a look of muffled horror crossed his features. He stared at me in open shock for a split second, paling considerably, before he looked around quickly and turned back, frowning deeply. He grabbed my arms, none too gently at that, and dragged me over near the wall, away from possibly prying words, before ripping his hands off me.

"You must _never_ speak those words!" He hissed, immediately stepping closer and well into my personal space.

"Why not?" I frowned, leaning back a bit.

"Where did you hear those words?" His eyes darted about, as if examining me and looking for something.

My eyes narrowed. "In a vision. A memory, I suppose. I don't know. It was just a flash, but I clearly heard those words and they've been cycling around in my head over and over, along with their translation: 'Deep the root. Dark the night. Red the blood I will pay'. What is it?"

"You must _never_ speak those words within the castle walls, or around _anyone_!"

"Why not?" It was like deja vu.

He frowned at me. "You saw nothing?"

I shook my head, gritting my teeth against the single word that threatened to give way the images dancing around in my head. _You_.

He nodded, though his eyes narrowed. "They're Pagan. Heresy."

"What do they mean?"

Immediately, he pulled back, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter. You're best to forget them entirely. This is one memory that will cause you nothing but pain if you speak of it to others."

"And yet..._you_ won't accuse me of heresy for speaking them?"

"Were _you_ the one to speak them in your head?"

I shook my head again, catching that he was easily deflecting my questions. "It was a man's voice, and _I_ don't sound like a man... That I'm aware of, anyways."

The small, reluctant smile curved the edge of his lips. "You don't, Mary. Listen, I apologize for being so blunt, but France is a Christian nation. Paganism isn't tolerated. It's considered heresy by _all_. If you are heard uttering those words, unless you can give someone a face to go with them, it could be _you_ accused of this betrayal."

"I am Christian!" I hissed quietly.

He nodded. "As am I. Yet you spoke the words fluently, and I know their meaning. In the wrong hands, this could be damning information."

I shivered, pulling the heavy leather coat around me tighter, and nodded back. "I see."

"Is that all you've remembered?"

"No." I frowned. "I..." Well, telling him of the chanting would mean nothing. I couldn't make out the words to give him something to go by, nor could I tell him of his face in that one. At the same time, I wasn't sure if I could tell him of witnessing him pushing a man off his horse. That was _the_ most confusing and concerning image I'd seen. Was the man a monster? An innocent? Shaking my head, I decided to go with something else. "I saw three women sitting at a table. Aylee, Greer and a woman I've never seen before, with long, brown hair and brown eyes. She was dressed fancy, but I don't recognize her."

"You have a young woman in your group with brown hair, do you not?"

"Lola has blue eyes. This woman had brown."

"Did you hear anything?"

I nodded, mind tossed back into that...vision...or memory, or whatever it was. "Nostradamus' voice. He said 'the lion shall fight the dragon on a field of poppies' to the unfamiliar girl, 'you will fall in love with a man with a white mark on his face' to Greer and-" Now I frowned deeply. "'You will never go home' to Aylee."

"Greer and Aylee? Two more of your ladies, if I recall correctly. Nostradamus has met them?"

"That's the most confusing part. They look as they do now. As if this has happened _very_ recently, but I have only been here a day so far. I am not aware of him speaking with them, and if he has, it should not be a 'memory' because I have not witnessed it." I couldn't help but look out the nearby window. "Like you..." _He looked the same_...

"_Me_?"

I looked back and realized my mistake immediately. It took a second to gather myself, before I shook my head. "I saw you. A fleeting image. You, in the woods, at night, with what..._looked_ like blood smeared across your cheek. You looked the same age you are now. Or at least very close to it, and yet you said we have not seen each other in six years."

"I see. This is...highly confusing...and intriguing."

The combination of something low and grim, and a _hint_ of amusement at the end, caught my attention, and I noted the very slight touch of an almost wry smirk tugging at his lips, before it faded. Then, as the ache in my head made itself known again, I winced sharply, putting my free hand to my temple as another throb broke me out of my memories. The pain seemed to linger, not fading or increasing. It was a constant. A painful, confusing constant.

"Come. Let us go see if Nostradamus has anything to help you with the pain." There was a light touch on my arm.

I looked up at Sebastian.

His expression was still grim, but had lessened. Now, however, the look was mingled with curiosity and confusion. No doubt the little I'd told him had left a mark. Judging by his expression, he _was_ intrigued, which probably meant he'd be checking up on me often to see if I had any other strange 'memories' popping out of nowhere. Funnily enough, I couldn't bring myself to _mind_.

I felt his hand at my back as he gently guided me off the wall, and I lightly tugged Sterling's leash, bringing him with us. We walked in silence. No doubt, I'd given him a lot to think about. I'd given _myself_ a lot to think about! Of course, with the feel of his hand lingering on my arm as he led me down a side hall, towards the infirmary, it was difficult to focus on much else but how _much_ I..._enjoyed_ the touch.

_And_ his presence!

I could feel the heat pooling in my cheeks, and cursed myself for it, even as I stared straight ahead. As we neared the doors, I frowned to myself as my mind flashed back to the very reason I was up and about at this late in the evening.

_Colin_.

He..._was_ attacking me...wasn't he? His movements were harsh and dangerous, and coupled with the mysterious warning earlier led me to believe they were connected somehow, but truthfully, the most _frightening_ aspect of the whole damn incident was when his hand was over my mouth, hindering my breathing, and that could easily have been seen as an accident.

_Was_ he attacking me?

Instinct screamed yes, but somewhere in my head, something else screamed no.

Was he perhaps trying to awaken me so he could _warn_ me of an attack? Then why not blurt it all out before he was pulled away, on the off chance I'd order the guards to stop and hear him out? Why not awaken me more gently and hurry to say it all? Why not sneak in earlier when I was awake to speak, or steal a dance during the party to impart the warning verbally?

Feeling the hand on my arm tighten until I was pulled to a stop, gently of course, I turned to find Sebastian looking at me once more.

"You said earlier you were attacked. I apologize. I fear I allowed my curiosity about your..._condition_ cloud my mind. You _aren't_ hurt...?"

I shook my head, offering a small smile.

He returned it, ever so slightly, before inclining his head. "Is my family aware?"

"You're the first I saw. After the incident I just... I wanted out of my room, so I dressed and fled." I blushed at admitting it. "I suspect it won't be long before I'm hunted, but truthfully, the incident is...confusing. He did not try to kill me. I believe, if he'd truly intended to take my life, he could have with ease. I was half asleep. A dagger to the heart was all it would have taken. Instead he awoke me by all but ripping my blankets off me." I frowned.

"Is it possible he sought to take your virtue?"

The idea made me blush _horribly_!

Granted, the idea had flit through my mind, but was immediately dismissed. "He is betrothed to my _friend_! To _Lola_! I am his _queen_! Surely he wouldn't attempt-"

"You said it yourself, if he'd wanted you dead, he could have. If he didn't want to _kill_ you..."

Swallowing thickly, I found myself looking away, resting my free hand against my stomach. _Rape. He wanted my virtue?_ "If he'd succeeded, I wouldn't be fit to wed Francis. The alliance with France would have been..." Now I frowned deeply. "I've asked the guards to hold him and keep him alive. I want to question him, myself."

"Are you certain that's wise?"

"No, but I want answers. I'm _tired_ of having nothing but questions!"

Sebastian nodded at me with a surprisingly understanding look, before he frowned at me. "Mary... What we discussed before... Those words... You must promise me you won't say them again."

Hadn't I already done so?

I looked at him, looking into his eyes, and I could see that same unease. Those words _meant_ something to him. I had no idea what, but they clearly struck something inside him that must have bothered him a great deal for him to be insisting this.

"Mary!"

Jerking a bit, I turned to find Francis back down the hall, back the way we'd come. He wore a simple white-ish shirt and leather pants as he walked briskly our direction.

Feeling Sebastian's hand fall away from my arm, I struggled to bite back the faint but noticeable sense of disappointment, even as I turned to him. "Thank you, Bash. I promise." I told him quietly, smiling at him as I carefully slipped out of his jacket and handed it back.

He bowed briefly, offering me a small smile, before straightening.

"Ah, brother! I see you're still awake. I thought for certain you'd have gotten so sauced at Elizabeth's wedding, that you'd have passed out in some random hall long ago!"

I found myself smiling ever so slightly at the light banter as Francis gave his brother an amused look, before the amusement faded and he turned my way.

"I heard of the attack. Are you all right?"

* * *

><p><strong>Written<strong> : Feb 5, 2014

Hope you like it.

R+R please.

Thank you.

Kitten


	8. Random Walls

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Reign, any of its affiliates, or anything I might choose to cross it over with. I only own my OC(s).

* * *

><p><strong>(Days Later)<strong>

Days had passed since the whole thing.

Talking and walking with Bash had been a chance to finally seek out information, as well as try to judge whether or not I truly _could_ trust him. While I still didn't know how Paganism related to him in particular, or what the images I'd seen of him meant, I _had_ determined that either someone was lying to me along the way, or what I was seeing could not _possibly_ be memories, because there was no way he was six years younger in those images!

_But_...

He'd been kind and compassionate. His presence had been the rock I needed. Clearly he was keeping his promise, not telling anyone of my 'condition', and in return, it seemed I had multiple promises to keep right back. Which I did, though it was more difficult than I expected.

Francis intervened then, and Sebastian wasted no time in walking away. I hadn't seen him since, but for a few glances here and there. If I were a paranoid person, I'd almost say he must have been avoiding me, but chances were, it was a _very_ big castle, he had a very busy life, and it didn't _all_ revolve around the castle like mine did. He _was_ bastard born, which meant he _was_ free to come and go as he pleased.

Francis had made his presence known after that.

He was at my shoulder, constantly reassuring me...and then comforting me when I found out Colin had been beheaded, despite my will, and I could not question him. Lola was inconsolable once she found out, and had yet to truly move past any of the pain, though I did not blame her. For the rest of the night, none of the girls would talk to me, and they all crowded around her, like somehow _I_ was to blame for the attack.

The next morning, they came to me (Aylee, Greer and Kenna), offering apologies and checking up on me while Lola slept.

I would be the first to admit, I didn't like that Colin was beheaded before I could question him, _or_ that Lola had managed to bribe a guard into letting her speak to her detained betrothed, who revealed he'd been blackmailed into attempting to rape me, as Sebastian had guessed. I especially didn't like when I was informed it was apparently a _French_ Courtier who had ordered the attack. Someone 'highly placed', with the power to have him killed, apparently.

But that was days ago.

Things moved on rather quickly after that, and I found myself stumbling along, struggling to keep up. Elizabeth departed for Spain, her new country to aid in ruling over at the side of her handsome king Philip. Colin had been beheaded, Bash had disappeared, the king and queen had apologized, though... I found the queen's words _highly_ antagonizing and suspiciously sharp when I insisted on trying to talk to Colin, before finding out the poor boy had been executed.

It had been a struggle to keep up, but slowly but surely I was managing.

"Sterling! Come on, boy!"

I walked down the long, dirt road, heading towards the woods. This wasn't the same area as before. I recognized this road as the King's Road, and it travelled along the lake that brought me to the castle. With the lake on one side, and the forest on the other, I wandered down the dirt path, entirely too aware that I was alone, and entirely too happy to remain that way. Guards had been swarmed around me, after the attack, and King Henry had been relentless in scowering the castle for anyone and everyone who could have been linked to the 'English plot' involving Colin's attempt to steal my virginity.

Catherine had been suspiciously smug about my unease.

Diane had been absolutely silent and indifferent to the whole thing. She'd actually been more like a shadow since I arrived, appearing only rarely, and staying very quietly at Henry's side, before disappearing again.

Francis had, for a day, been glued to my side, checking on me periodically to ensure my virtue hadn't miraculously disappeared in the span of ten minutes on my own. Like I'd go and...and...fall on a _corn cob _or something and mess up the entire alliance. Of course, this only ended up with me demanding to know why he didn't believe me, and some things being said that led him to pulling rank on me and telling me he didn't even _want_ the alliance to begin with...

_What a bastard!_ I paused then, the word instantly making me think of Bash and the other definition of the word. _No, he's a..._jerk_!_

Here my country was, desperate for aid and allies, and entrusting their _only_ legitimate heir and ruler into France's hands, and it was beginning to appear like France might not have been the ally they first appeared. Henry refused to talk on the wedding, choosing instead to deflect the conversation, or answer with vague answers, and Francis had entirely come out and said that Scotland could _destroy_ France.

_If they're looking elsewhere for allies, Maybe Scotland should take a page from their book. France isn't the _only_ country looking for alliances._

Grabbing up a small branch at the side of the wide dirt road, I wandered along, breaking the edges off it. Today was a beautiful day, and it suited the black, off the shoulder, strappy dress I wore. The slightly poofy sleeves of the dress hung down a bit, giving the straps that wound around my arms a bit of a curve to them.

The dress itself was jet black with gold sewing across the chest and bodice in the shape of roses and vines. The dress had a hidden under bust corset under the form fitting bodice. Under bust was more or less the only way I'd go, because appropriate or not, I preferred the way they narrowed my waist and enhanced my assets. The skirt was long and flowing, once again _not_ poofy, and I wore my hair down in loose gentle waves, with no side braids and only a thin gold and diamond headdress draped over my head, with light gold and diamond/sapphire dangling earrings and a thin strand of sapphires around my throat to accentuate it all.

With the warm sun beating down, I couldn't help but wonder if _black_ was really the appropriate color to wear, but I dismissed it quickly enough. The lighter material, short straps, and cool breeze all mingled together to negate the way the sun beat down against the dark material I wore, so I was _not_ sweating like a pig as I walked.

"Sterling!" As the dog's head snapped around, I waved the stick before me, before giving it a gentle toss a few feet ahead of us. "Fetch boy!"

I watched as he ran ahead, keeping a close eye on him as he chased after the stick, grabbed it up in his jaws, and came trotting proudly back. I couldn't help but smile, because that was exactly how he looked. Proud. Like he'd accomplished a big feat for his mother. I smiled, accepting the stick and patting his head with words of encouragement, before throwing it again.

_Poor Colin. _

_Poor Lola._

_What kind of person could do this to them?_

I'd heard about it all, and my heart sat heavy with guilt. If I hadn't screamed, would he have stopped his attack? Would he have told me everything? Could I have helped him to escape and get away? Would he have taken the help, if I'd offered it? If his family was truly threatened, then nothing I could say or do would have aided them. Not if the threatener was someone _highly placed_ in French Court.

I had no idea who _that_ was, either.

Though I had a nagging suspicion about the two ladies in control.

Catherine could agree with Francis. She could see Scotland as a danger and be trying to end the alliance to _save_ France, for all I knew. Diane could be secretly trying to get Bash on the throne, and eliminating possible enemies. Though why she wouldn't go after Francis directly was beyond me. Maybe she was trying to be more subtle and conniving?

Or maybe I was seeing evil where there really wasn't any.

"Good boy!" I took the stick and pet Sterling's head once more, before a sound behind me caught my attention. I immediately shifted off the road, taking Sterling's collar and dragging him with me so there was no risk of him getting trampled, and as I stood to the side, I turned towards the sound.

Three horses rode my way, each carrying an adult male rider. Two were unfamiliar, though one appeared to have a shaved head, and the other had shaggy dark brown hair that fell to just past his ears. It was the one in the back, with the all too familiar blue eyes, that caught and _held_ my attention. Then men slowed, riding past me with mounted bows and words of respect, before moving on.

It was _him_ who stopped.

"Mary! There you are!" He frowned, before looking ahead. "Go ahead. I'll meet you at the hunting grounds." He nodded his head briskly, and I turned to watch his friends (were they friends?) riding off once more, before I turned back, just in time to watch Bash dismount. "And what have I told you about wandering off alone? Let alone in the woods?" He gave me a look.

"I'm on King's Road!_ And_ still in sight of the castle!"

"And yet far enough to be kidnapped, as well."

"By what? Chipmunks?" I found myself laughing, but it faded at the look in his eyes.

"The woods are far more dangerous than you might think, Your Grace." His voice was low, smooth, and I felt a small shiver run up my spine. "This is no laughing matter. I meant what I said. You must _not_ go into the woods!"

"Why? What's in there?"

"Dangers."

"Really?" I gave him a look. "Is that really _all_ you're going to give me? 'Dangers'?" At the way he didn't so much as blink, I straightened defiantly and turned towards the castle. "Very well then. You leave me no choice. I'll have to ask around the castle."

Before I could move, there was an all too familiar grip on my arm, halting me.

"Why must you push?"

"Perhaps for whatever reasons you feel the need to push me about my memories."

He looked at me, frowning, before nodding. "Come. Francis was looking for you. I'll take you to him, before joining my friends." He pulled his horse closer.

"Bash-"

"It is...a long story, and not one I am comfortable speaking of. Mary... You know nothing. You've said this yourself. You wouldn't understand. All you need to know is the woods are full of bandits and murderers, always looking for fresh victims. Even _this_ close to the castle."

I stiffened at the casual way he spoke of my issue, the way he insisted with a rather confident air about how I would not understand, and at the mention of bandits and murderers. The woods were so dangerous? But he'd gone into them to get Sterling for me, had he not? I found myself looking at him, only to see _his_ eyes on the horse at his side, as he straightened it's tack. _He got Sterling. For me. In those very woods_.

"Can you ride?"

I blinked, catching his eye. Unlike the other day, there were walls in his gaze today, it seemed. His voice had an edge to it. He stood stiffly. He barely held eye contact, and when he did, his gaze was colder and more walled off than it was before. Something had changed, and it had changed the moment Francis found us outside the infirmary, days ago.

"Yes." I sighed quietly, wondering _what_ was going on, and what it was I was missing.

I moved to the horse, accepting his hand up with resignation, and seated myself side saddle on the front of the saddle, before I was startled as he pulled himself up behind me. Immediately, a surprisingly strong, _warm_ arm wrapped around me, and I was pulled lightly to the equally as warm chest behind me. My side and part of my back were pressed up against a body _so_ warm, I felt the heat through my dress, and even the thick corset.

Bash whistled slightly before pulling the horse around and riding us back towards the castle. The ride was silent. He offered no questions or statements, and I offered none in response. We rode in tense silence, me _insisting_ on sitting straight and not slouching against him, though I wanted to more and more as the seconds passed, and it wasn't until I saw the familiar blonde head of my betrothed before us in the distance that his words settled in.

_Francis._

_Francis wants to talk to me._

I grimaced, feeling unusually angry as I heard Sebastian shout out to his brother. His voice rang in my ears and I grit my teeth tightly, struggling not to show my sudden discomfort. In fact, as Francis turned his eyes our way, I determinedly turned my own to the ground around us, seeking out and confirming Sterling was still following. The last thing I needed was to lose my dog. Again.

As we pulled up before my betrothed, Bash removed the arm he'd had sitting so comfortably and familiarly around my waist, gripping my arm. I took the cue and slid off the horse, directly into Francis' waiting arms. No sooner had my feet touched the ground, then I was pushing _all_ hands off me.

"My thanks for the ride, My Lord. If you'll excuse me, I'd rather like to be _alone_ right now." I turned, giving a quick call to Sterling and snapping my fingers, before walking towards the castle, briskly.

"What did you do now, brother?" I could hear Sebastian's amused voice behind me.

I made it to the gates before Francis was at my side.

"I understand you're angry at me. I apologize for my...less than pleasant attitude before. Perhaps I was still stressed about the attack on your person, earlier."

"_I_ was 'stressed' about the attack on my person, earlier, and yet you did not see _me_ calling _France_ weak." I huffed, frowning. "But then again, I guess I truly can't. France is such a large nation, with so many powerful allies, and Scotland is so much smaller and alone."

"If you remember correctly, I also said France wasn't as strong as you'd believe. I am merely concerned about my country-"

"And _I_ am concerned about _mine_. You are not the only one with a country to think of!" I told him bluntly, glowering.

"No. You're right, I'm not, and I'm sorry that my words undoubtedly came across selfish."

I began up a large flight of stairs, only to be stopped by a hand on my arm. This one was remarkably tighter, almost uncomfortably so, and I found myself turning with annoyance. _What is it with everyone and _grabbing_ me?_

"My father wished our presences in the throne room."

"Ah, so you were sent to fetch the wayward queen. I see." I pulled my arm free and turned, walking back down the stairs, and taking the long hall to my right.

"Mary..." There was a long pause as Francis immediately fell into step beside me. Keeping up with ease, as usual. "I _am_ sorry."

Pausing mid-step, I turned to him. I looked at him, trying to analyze whether or not he was just saying those words, but at the ringing sincerity in his eyes, I found myself sighing. I was _so_ angry and _so_ stand-off-ish, and all I wanted was to be away from him, and truly, when he wasn't angry and being nasty, he wasn't a _bad_ guy!

I shook my head, licking my lips, before straightening and starting down the hall once more. This time, I walked at a more sedate pace.

"So am I."

* * *

><p><strong>Written<strong> : Feb 5, 2015

Hope you like it.

R+R please.

Thank you.

Kitten


	9. Political Betrothals

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Reign, any of its affiliates, or anything I might choose to cross it over with. I only own my OC(s).

* * *

><p><strong>(The Next Day)<strong>

The summons had really only been a notice that I would be required at the next day's meeting with the royal family. What business a _Scottish_ queen had with _French_ alliances was beyond me, but I agreed and went on my way. Luckily, Francis didn't follow me, and I spent the better part of my day exploring the castle, and spending bits of time with my ladies, who all seemed to be warming up to me all over again.

Now, here I stood in the throne room, surrounded by French royals and my own ladies, listening to the king and queen as they planned out the future wedding of their seven year old son. Seven. Being betrothed. I knew I was betrothed at nine. I remembered hearing about it from the nuns, and reading about it in the notes they sent me with updated information.

It just...felt very strange to me, though I had no idea why.

"Let's agree, it's a brilliant match! Madeleine's French, so there's no question of her loyalty, and she's very wealthy."

"But not royal so they're hungry for power."

"They'll pay for it."

"Then it's only right to accept the support of one's followers."

My eye twitched, and I grit my teeth. Keeping my hands safely hidden in the long black skirt I wore, I let my fingers curl into fists. I knew this was right, despite the voices in my head screaming otherwise. I knew this was normal. Political marriages for money and power. It was the norm, and yet... I hated hearing them talk about it like money and power were _all_ that mattered.

Maybe to a queen, it was. Happiness wasn't a luxury queens could afford. The journal had said as much, and it made so much sense with Scotland needing the alliance so badly. Even though I felt nothing for Francis, other than occasionally friendship or occasionally a scathing hatred for him, I _would_ have to marry him one day, to protect my country.

I would do whatever I had to, to protect my country, regardless of my personal feelings.

But this _Madeleine_ wasn't royalty.

...But Charles _was_...

He was a prince. A legitimate prince. So painfully, it made sense.

"Oh! And she has a giraffe!"

It was _very_ strange, watching Catherine coo at her son like he was the most precious thing in the world. I _loathed_ this woman from the moment I met her, though I didn't know why, and her cooing at her son like this_ should_ have made me feel more at ease...right? She loved her son! Any woman capable of loving her babies couldn't be _all_ evil, right?

So why did it make me nauseous to watch?

"Madeleine's widely travelled. She's come from far away, by ship."

"Do I get a giraffe, too?" Charles' innocence was sweet, and it tempered my growing annoyance and anger with something warmer and sweeter.

I cast a small glance back at my ladies, who looked either caught by Charles' sweetness, or bored out of their minds. As I turned back, I caught ice blue eyes that were fixed on _me_. Bash, looking dashing in all his black leather glory, was staring at me. A strange, unfathomable look on his features, but the second he caught my eyes, he turned away, leaving _me_ staring at _him_ a moment, before _I_ turned away as well.

"The _moment_ she's your bride!"

"Francis, to show our respect, I want you to accompany your little brother to the landing." Henry looked up and walked over, standing in front of the man who stood _so_ silently at my side.

Charles chose that moment to turn around. "Can Bash come as well?"

"Charles!" Was there _anyone_ who didn't jump at the sharp tone suddenly in Catherine's voice? "You know Bash isn't really your brother! He's just your father's son. His presence is _dis_respectful!"

My eyes narrowed sharply as I found myself glaring at the woman.

His bastardy.

Again.

Was it always this annoying to me? To hear innocent people put down and treated like filth because of the sins of their parents? No. I wasn't hearing 'innocent people' put down and treated like filth. I was hearing _Bash_ being put down and treated like filth. Gritting my teeth, it took me a second to fix my face and force my anger down into the fists curled into my skirt. I slanted a glance at Bash out of the corner of my eye, and caught him raising an eyebrow at Francis, and then at me as our eyes locked.

Setting my jaw, I turned back.

The urge to comment was very nearly overwhelming! All I had to do was open my mouth and-

"Father, if I might make a request."

Francis' voice knocked my train of thought off track, and I found myself heaving a slow, deep breath as I caught the calm, cool and collected expression on his face. Did it not _bother_ him that his own brother was being insulted a mere _second_ ago?

"I'll hear it."

"I'd like to request Mary's accompaniment on our journey."

_Wait, what?_

I blinked, raising an eyebrow at him curiously.

"It'll be several hours journey."

Francis only smiled. "We'll take food and snacks and make a day of it. It could be fun, and a chance to show Mary more of the French countryside I'm sure she hasn't had a chance to see yet. France is so very lovely this time of year."

"On second thought-" Catherine's voice caught my attention, and I turned to find her slanting a rather _evil_ look my way. My eyes narrowed in response. "Why don't we meet the girl here? It could be dangerous."

"Stay on the King's Road. A dozen well-armed guards should take care of any bandits." Henry turned to me, and I forced the most believable smile I could, and he nodded before turning away. "Prepare a carriage for Mary, Queen of Scotland."

We took the dismissal for what it was, and with a curtsy _only_ to Henry, I turned and left the room with my ladies in tow. Immediately, Greer and Kenna were laughing and throwing about theories as to why Francis wanted _me_ to go along.

"Perhaps he's reconsidered! Perhaps he _wants_ to wed you, now!"

"Maybe he wants to get to know his future bride. The interest is a good thing!"

"Aylee..." Once we were alone, I turned to the youngest of my ladies. "Did you see to what I asked you to? Has there been any response?"

She winced and looked unease.

"Mary-"

"No." I turned sharply to Greer. "I was _attacked_ on my first night here." Sharply realizing how my words might sound, I gripped Lola's arm. "I meant that not against Colin. I believe you and him that he was forced."

She gave me a tight smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes, and I gave her arm a small squeeze.

"What I mean is _someone_ in the castle, with great power, found a way to threaten a _Scottish_ native into attempting to attack me. He was threatened. Blackmailed. By someone here in French Court. A supposed _ally_! On top of that, Francis has made it _clear_ he finds Scotland weak. If France can and _is_ looking elsewhere, then we would be wise to do the same, should they find better aid elsewhere and decide to end the alliance between our nations, Scotland _must_ have some kind of backup plan."

I frowned deeply, removing my hand from Lola's arm and linking my fingers together before me. "I would not take such drastic actions, but France is a large and powerful country. If they seek alliances elsewhere, doors will be open to them that are not to Scotland. They _may_ find aid elsewhere. I have no intention of actively _seeking_ an alliance elsewhere. I merely wish to test the waters, so to speak. Find out who would be _interested_. It would not be in Scotland's best interest to consider France their _only_ option for an alliance. If this falls through for _any_ reason, we must have..._something_ else!"

Greer and Kenna didn't look convinced, but Lola and Aylee nodded and straightened.

"My mother sent word." Aylee spoke up quietly.

I'd asked her to hide my inquiries in a letter between her family and her. The enemy would have no need of reading messages from my ladies to their families. It was _my_ letters I was more concerned about. Then again, the _enemy_ had attacked me through my ladies, so they might not have been as safe as I'd have liked.

However, my options were few.

"She spoke to your uncle, and he said that... Spain would only ally to us once you're married to Francis. There is a small interest of an alliance for supplies but with their alliance with France, they would not have troops to spare. Portugal only has one legitimate heir, and he is three. There _are_ rumors, however, that the elder bastard son of Portugal might be in line to be legitimized, since there is no other to take his father's place."

"That is something." I nodded.

"However, there are also rumors he was wed once before, and his wife was killed. There are..._rumors_ that _he_ was the one to kill her."

I frowned again.

"He is said to treat his servants badly, and may be a dangerous man."

_Damn it! Of course._ I nodded quietly.

"Egypt has no interest in involving themselves in any of our wars, or allying themselves to us. I believe your uncle also used the word 'weak' to describe their thoughts of our nation."

"And England can't be trusted." I frowned.

"Other nations have considered offering us alliances for supplies, but not the troops we need." Aylee finished quietly. "I'm sorry, Mary. France or Portugal are the only options, and France is the only one with a currently legitimate heir of marrying age."

I nodded, frowning deeply. "I see. Thank you, Aylee." Forcing my hands to relax, I ran them down the sides of my black skirt, for once glad I'd chosen a poofy one to hide my fists in. "I suppose I should get ready for this trip."

Immediately, the girls perked up.

Raising a hand, I waited until they all calmed down. "There is nothing between Francis and I. There most likely never will be." I gave them all a warning look. "I will not primp for a day long ride in a carriage, where I will sweat and become covered in dust, regardless. It would merely be a waste of time and effort. And truly..." I sighed heavily. "I don't even want to go. But it is My Lord's desire."

"Oh Mary. You deserve to be happy." Greer shook her head.

"Unfortunately, happiness is not a privilege royalty are privy to."

"Nor us ladies in waiting."

I sighed and looked at Lola. "Lola..."

"I don't blame you. I understand now that you only responded how you had to, to save your life. It was this French enemy who had him killed so soon before he could be questioned. It is this _murderer_ I blame." Her eyes narrowed. "Be careful."

"And you." I looked at the girls. "_All_ of you!"

As they wandered off, I looked down to my dress, debating. It had a golden bodice, with the corset hidden underneath, and a long, flowing, slightly poofy black skirt. It wasn't ideal for riding in, but I felt drained today, and didn't feel the desire or need to change into anything else, so with a small sigh, I wandered off to my chambers to find a cloak.

I frowned to myself as I walked.

_Ever since I got here, nothing's felt right._

_The words I speak often end up ringing oddly in my ears, sometimes echoing. The events I've had to experience have left my head throbbing and reeling, and images and words dance in my head that make no sense._

_The last 'memory' I've gotten was Nostradamus' voice, and the strange woman sitting with my ladies._

Nothing had happened since. The throbbing had faded. All threat of _remembering_ had gone. Now I wondered if I was to suffer from my memory loss forever. With no more memories returning, I wondered if I would forever be an empty shell of a woman, with feelings for a man I could _never_ have.

Feeling sick, I made it to my chambers and grabbed up a cloak, before leaving once more. I shook out the cloak, before wrapping it around my shoulders and fastening it in place. Of course, I had no idea when or where I was to meet anyone, but I supposed I would be summoned when it was time. Though...why Francis would ask for _my_ presence was beyond me.

Seeing Bash up ahead, I found my heart fluttering.

And frowned deeper.

These strange feelings and senses around him made _no_ sense! How could I feel for him? It was his _brother_ I was betrothed to! It should have been his _brother_ my heart was open to! Yet here I was, memorizing the dark colored shirt that didn't seem to quite be black, or grey, or a dark, murky green, under a sleeveless leather shirt, with black leather pants. There I was, staring at the man who stared out the window with a blank expression on his face.

I walked over to him, watching as he blinked and turned my way. I watched, eyes riveted to his features, as his lips parted slightly and his eyebrows jerked up ever so slightly, before his expression melted into a small smile.

"Queen Mary." He bowed.

"You needn't bow to me, Sebastian." I told him, unable to smile back. "I merely wanted to apologize."

He frowned. "For what?"

"What she said was cruel and uncalled for."

His eyebrows jerked right back up again. "And yet, true."

"Hardly. You're of Henry's blood, as is Charles, which makes you brothers. _Half-_brothers, perhaps, but still brothers. Don't get technical with me! I'll drag you down to my level and beat you with experience!" Hearing the words that poured out of my mouth, I blinked, startled. _Where did _that_ come from?_

To my rather..._pleasant_ surprise, Sebastian laughed loud and hard. I finally found my lips curling up into a smile, unable to _stop_ myself this time, as he shook his head and laughed, beaming at me with lips pulled back over even white teeth and eyes positively _sparkling_ with mirth.

"I'm not quite certain where that came from." I admitted, after a moment.

"It was much appreciated, and quite amusing." He told me, chuckling once more.

I could have huffed, but instead, I found myself smiling. "Well, at least I got you to laugh." I shook my head. "I..." I paused, before looking into eyes that were giving me undivided attention. I felt...nervous...but at the same time, I knew I could trust him. "I feel a strange sense of rage when I'm around Catherine. I can't explain it. She's done nothing that I'm aware of to warrant such a feeling, but just as I knew from the moment I saw you that I could trust you, I've known from the moment I saw _her_ that I hate her with a passion, and I _know_ I cannot trust her!"

"Be careful, Mary. She _is_ the queen."

"She's not _mine_. I only tolerate her because of the alliance, but truthfully... I believe _she_ is the one behind the attack on my person." I watched him stiffen, and then realized what I'd just admitted to. My eyes widened. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

But before I could speak, he was moving closer, pulling me towards the window. "Keep your voice down! If anyone hears you accusing the queen of _treason_, you'll not only lose the alliance, but your head as well!"

"Colin told Lola he was threatened. By someone highly placed in _French_ Court. Conveniently enough, despite my own personal request he be held and kept _alive_, he was beheaded before I could speak to him. Only _two_ people could give an order like that, that would outweigh even my own demands."

"Why would you think-"

"I don't know, Sebastian! That's the problem. I don't _know_, but I feel it deep down inside me. I _cannot _and_ will not_ trust her! I _hate_ her!"

"Sh!" He gripped my arm tightly, though not tightly enough to bruise, and I found arm burning from the grip. "You need to stop, Mary."

"You told me I should tell you-"

"I told you, you should tell me if you _remember_ anything. This isn't a memory."

"No, I..." But, of course, he was right. It wasn't a memory. It was a feeling, and a baseless accusation, at that. There was no proof. She'd shown no reason, outwardly, for me to feel this way.

"It's all right. Mary, you're safe here. Safer than I'm sure you feel. I promise you, no one will harm you."

I looked at him, even as I caught Francis' blonde head in the distance, heading our way. My eyes locked on his, and I desperately wanted to believe and agree with him, but- "I wish I could believe you, but you can't stop a queen that wants me gone." Placing a hand on his arm, I gently pulled myself free, before moving to walk past him.

I saw Francis.

I saw the look he gave us.

I frowned at him, before turning to Sebastian as he turned, following my departure with his gaze. "Thank you for allowing me to speak freely, Seb..._Bash_. I appreciate it far more then you'll ever know." With a bow of my head, I turned and wandered down the hall to where my betrothed awaited.

_On with the show, then?_

* * *

><p><strong>Written<strong> : Feb 6, 2014

Hope you like it.

R+R please.

Thank you.

Kitten


	10. Of Memories and Migraines

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Reign, any of its affiliates, or anything I might choose to cross it over with. I only own my OC(s).

* * *

><p><strong>(Later)<strong>

"I hope you're enjoying your stay at French Court."

Tearing my gaze from the vast fields of France, I found myself pinned under stormy blue eyes. Once more I found myself reminding myself that this was my betrothed. I _should_ have felt..._something_ for him. Even with his distance and occasional anger issues, he _was_ a beautiful man, and he _did_ seem quite kind.

"I haven't seen much of you. I apologize. My father's trips out of the castle for any length of time leave me as Regent, and between my duties as Dauphin and my duties as Regent, and my training, I fear I don't have nearly as much free time as I'd like. I had wanted to show you the beautiful flowering fields beyond the East Keep, or the lake at sundown when the fire flies come out."

I found myself immediately trying to imagine the scenes he described.

"I'm certain the fields are nothing compared to what you're used to at the Convent, and your move has been a stressful one. I have been keeping in touch with the nuns, and they say that though your taster died, the other young lady is recovering nicely and is already back on her feet, though still weak."

Frowning, I shook my head. "Other young lady?"

He frowned back. "Yes. The young maiden who was poisoned by the porridge?"

_And yet she survived?_ "I'm sorry, I don't know anything about that." I thought, my eyes going back out of the window, of the ladies at the Convent. "I haven't had a chance to keep in touch with the nuns. I feel bad. Perhaps I should write to them when I get back."

"You're more than welcome to. If you'd like, I'm certain my father would allow you to visit them."

My eyes darted back to him, even as I immediately picked up on- "That would be nice." _Maybe they can give me more information._

We fell into silence. I turned to Charles who had chosen to sit beside me, and ran a hand through his short, dark brown hair as he played with a wooden puzzle he held. Despite my animosity for his mother, and uncertainty around his brother, I couldn't feel anything but fondness for the sweet boy who leaned against me, attention stuck solely on the wooden object he held.

"I...wanted to apologize...again."

I turned to Francis, to see true remorse shining in his eyes.

"You told me 'You won't love me. You won't let yourself', and you're right. I have been keeping my distance. Truthfully, I am heir to a nation. I _must_ consider my country over all else. Love is one thing royalty cannot have. We who are so privileged in so many ways without it. We wed for power, truces, and politics, because it is what is good for our people."

"I understand." I nodded, unable to feel anything horrible towards him, because I understood his words perfectly.

"I did not mean to offend you or hurt you in any way. I believe, now that I think back on it, I could have phrased myself better. It isn't that I don't want the alliance. Truthfully, I would much rather have the alliance without the betrothal. I would rather wed who I choose, when I choose, for the reasons I choose."

"As would I, but as you've said...love is irrelevant to people like us." I nodded. "I see what you mean. I am a queen. I know it all too well, Francis." It was an awkward conversation, because a little to much or not enough and we could be arguing all over again. In front of his child brother.

"I merely think we should take things slow. Think things through rationally, and consider what is best for our nations. It is our duty as leaders."

"And that is exactly what I'm doing." I nodded, turning my gaze back out the window.

"What you're...doing?"

Realizing how dangerous the ground I tread upon was, I frowned and turned back. "I'm here, am I not?" I gestured to the carriage vaguely with the arm Charles _wasn't_ leaning on.

Francis frowned at me. "You're here because of duty? You did not wish to accompany me?"

"It was My Lord's request." I bowed my head, feeling the bile rising in my throat as I said as much. Submission. He was a Dauphin, and I a queen, but _I_ was the guest which made his rank far higher than me. He was my master, until the alliance fell through. I had to be a queen, and despite my own personal unease, I _had_ to do whatever was in Scotland's best interest. Submitting to my future husband...if it meant an alliance and troops to keep Scotland safe from England...was what I _had_ to do.

"Mary-"

"Francis, if it's truth you want, I feel nothing towards you but _perhaps_ the possibility of friendship." I watched his eyes darken, and his expression go carefully blank. "Is that not what you wanted to hear? I'm not pushing for a wedding, or demanding you to love me."

His frown deepened, but a moment later, he shook his head and smiled. The smile was beaming and beautiful and believable...but it didn't reach his eyes. "You're right, and I thank you for understanding my circumstance." Then I'd _swear_ his smile sharpened. "But I must ask, your...lack of feelings wouldn't have anything to do with your conversation with my half-brother earlier, would it?"

I felt my eyebrows skyrocket. "Are you _jealous_?"

"What? No! You're _my_ betrothed-"

"A betrothed you don't even _want_!"

"That does not mean you can run off with other men!"

"I beg your pardon! Is _that_ the kind of woman you think I am?! Some _whore_ who runs off into the arms of other men when she doesn't get her way?! I am _not_ you! And you should be one to speak! You, who sneaks off with Lady _Natali_-_AHH!_" Gasping sharply, my hands shot to my head as an image flashed before my eyes.

**Flashback**

_"Natalia. Did anyone see you?"_

_"No. They didn't. They never do. Nothing's changed here. Nothing has to."_

_A beautiful brunette girl stood before Francis, disrobing slightly while his eyes lingered on her flesh, a conflicted expression crossing his features as her top fell away, partially, showing an expanse of creamy flesh beneath it._

**End Flashback**

"Mary? MARY! GUARDS! STOP THE CARRIAGE!"

"Is she all right?"

"_MARY!_"

Gasping, I gasped desperately for breath, fingers digging into my temples as I gasped again and again and again. My heart thundered in my chest, and even as the carriage jerked to a sharp stop, I felt my stomach heave. Shoving away the arms reaching for me, I desperately shoved the door open and nearly _leapt_ from the carriage! I darted past the stopped horses, only to shriek and stagger back when I noticed the edge of a cliff suddenly appearing before me.

I stumbled back, legs shaking violently, only to have arms come around me. I _shoved_ them off! Or...rather, I tried, to, but as my legs shook violently, I felt them giving out, and I clung to the black leather jacket desperately, heaving panting, gasping breaths as my vision spun.

"Mary? Are you all right?"

With the shouting and being tugged around, my head only spun and throbbed worse, so I did the only thing that seemed like it might help. I buried my face in the chest before me. I heaved a heavy, muffled breath of cotton, leather, spice and an undeniably male musk, and struggled to let it out slowly, still clutching my one hand to his jacket and my other to his shirt. Once I'd exhaled entirely, I inhaled deeply, feeling my body as it shook.

"My Lord! An English warship!"

And just like that, the pain _exploded_ behind my eyes once more!

**Flashback**

_"Is that a warship?"_

_"Yes. It is."_

_"But what are they doing here?"_

_"I don't know. I think it's a hostile landing."_

_"But England and France are at peace! ...Have they come for me?"_

_"GUARD! Get Mary out of here! Mary! Can you ride?"_

_"Yes!"_

* * *

><p>Gasping weakly, I felt like the world around me was swaying. The body that had pulled away, was suddenly back. I knew it was the same one, because I felt my face fall against the chest with a dull thud and suddenly found myself inhaling the same smell. All over again, my legs shook and I leaned heavily in the embrace.<p>

Voices were shouting around me, but with my head positively _radiating_ utter agony, I couldn't make sense of them! Everything spun, and my world seemed to slide in and out of focus-

"No! Don't shoot!"

That wasn't Francis.

The breaths I breathed were shaky and weak. I shook against Francis' body, hearing his voice echoing deafeningly around me as he held on to me tightly. I could feel his arm, wrapped tightly around my waist, and his firm grip on my other arm with his other hand.

"What happened?"

As the world seemed to _very_ slowly slide into focus once more, I found myself breathing harshly, tears _pouring_ from my eyes from the sheer _agony_ I was in! I struggled not to make a sound, not to give in to the whimpers, but I couldn't help the small, sickly sound that escaped my throat.

"She appears to be in pain. I don't know how it happened! One moment we were talking, and the next she was doubled up in pain, clutching at her head!"

"She mentioned something about severe headaches once before."

The voices swam over me. I figured out Bash's and Francis', though the _meaning_ of their conversation hadn't quite sank in yet. They were worried about _me_? Then again, I _was_ sagged against Francis, but even as I thought it, I couldn't help but sit there. I had _no_ strength in my body!

"She told _you_ this, and yet this is the first _I'm_ hearing about it?"

"She didn't want to discuss it, brother. She told me she feared it would make her seem...weak."

I had to give him props. As my mind slowly focused, the ominous darkness fading bit by bit, I was suddenly too aware of the tension around me. Francis' arms were tight. _Too_ tight. My arm _actually_ began to hurt, and breathing became difficult as firmly as I was pressed to his chest. Of course, as the darkness faded, I was also made more and more painfully aware of the boulder being slammed down on my head, over and over again.

"She told me she did not want to appear weak in France's eyes. In _your_ eyes, brother. She only told me because I would not leave her alone until she did so."

"Now is not the time to discuss this." I felt the hands shift, the body pulling away, and I gasped and lurched unsteadily, my legs _trembling_ under me. "Mary?"

"M-My _head_!"

"Sebastian, take Mary back to the castle. She's in no condition to be greeting anyone but Nostradamus for the time being. See she is taken care of, and...stay with her until you're certain she will be all right."

I tried to look up.

I tried to look up and locked eyes with my betrothed. I tried to steady myself and stand on my own two feet as his hands went to my waist. My own hands, which had been pressed to my temples, dropped to his hands as I tried not to fall face first to the ground below me. But thankfully, before my own legs could give out, Francis was dropping down, and I felt one hand leave my waist, only to wrap around behind my knees.

I was swept off my feet, and I gasped sharply, clinging to the man before me, as the world seemed to spin around me. My head sagged limply, feeling very much like it was about to fall right off, it that were at all possible. I blinked through tears, staring up at the ocean blue eyes that seemed to swirl with _so_ much emotion, before he looked away.

"Guard her with your life!"

"I will."

I was being handed away, and I slammed my eyes shut against the light as my head only throbbed worse. My head throbbed, my body felt hot and cold, and trembled against my will. My eyes burned, though I struggled with _every_ fibre of my being to hide the tears, and the light burned my eyes like fire. I was passed from one set of hands into another...and another. Before I could do more than open my eyes weakly, squinting through the blinding light at the soldier helping Francis lift me up, an all too familiar arm wrapped around my waist.

I was pulled snug to a body, and I smelled the same familiar spicy, woodsy scent. The arm wrapped snugly around my waist, followed by another, and I was shifted more comfortably against the warm, strong body, that I _happily_ let myself fall limply against.

Then as I felt the horse beneath me turning and watched the scenery passing by, I could hear Bash's voice in my ear, soothing me softly and assuring me I'd be okay. But as my mind shot back to the images and words echoing around in my head, a strange, frightening thought hit me.

_Who was that girl?_

_And why was Francis calling _her_ 'Mary'?_

* * *

><p><strong>Written<strong> : Feb 6, 2014

Hope you like it.

R+R please.

Thank you.

Kitten


	11. Shtstorm

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Reign, any of its affiliates, or anything I might choose to cross it over with. I only own my OC(s).

* * *

><p><strong>(Infirmary)<strong>

I was..._mad_ as hell!

Catherine, of course, heard about my migraine so powerful that Bash had to rush me back to the castle, and came in, making 'off handed' comments about how I shouldn't let my weaknesses show. Undoubtedly, if she really _was_ the one behind my attack before, this would be a new chance for her to target me. Of course, luckily, Nostradamus informed her that the chatting wasn't helping, and Henry was there, and ordered her to leave, before bidding me to feel better soon, and dragging his wayward bastard along behind him...

That was some time ago.

I'd missed the picnic thrown for Madeleine, I'd missed the party and dancing and games, and being there for the little girl who probably could have used reassurances in her corner...if I'd had any to offer. I wasn't there to find out that Colin was still alive, _or_ that he'd apparently escaped, but I sent Lola and Kenna to _beg_ the king and queen to bring him back alive so that I could question him, the moment I found out.

Francis had come by to see how I was doing, and even with the teas in me, my head still throbbed enough that I ended up letting my suspicions about his mother slip. He told me I had the 'word of the king and queen of France', and I should trust them. He left not long after my comment of 'I had their word we'd be married. I'm not sure words mean much here'.

So much for making friends on _that_ front.

Bash came by not long after, and we chatted lightly. I brought up my suspicions with him. My concerns. I didn't expect Colin to come back alive. Not if the _queen_ had any hand in the guards sent after the boy. I just...didn't dare hope. Sebastian told me _he'd_ go check, and left after.

Now, as darkness fell, I found myself sitting on my bed in the infirmary.

Nostradamus wanted me to stay, despite the slowly fading pain in my head, wanting to keep an eye on me, I guessed. My ladies had come and gone. I'd bid them to look after Lola, knowing this wouldn't be easy for her. It was just us now, and I found myself frowning at the sheets wrapped around my waist, my mind drawing back to the 'memories' I'd been experiencing.

_They all appear to be set very recently. Greer, Aylee, Bash, Francis... They all look the same. The _same_! As if these images happened _days_ ago! These lines and phrases and images..._ I shook my head, rubbing at my temple a bit, before laying back. _These aren't memories. They can't be! They just don't make _sense_!_

_Who was that girl?_

_Why did Francis seem worried about _her_?_

"Is all well, Your Grace?"

"My head has barely _stopped_ throbbing since I got here, and undoubtedly Catherine's going to use this knowledge to benefit her somehow."

"And how would she do that?"

"You tell me." I slanted a look his way, frowning.

Unlike many of the others in my presence, I couldn't say _how_ I felt about this man. There was a part of me that didn't trust him, a part that did, and the majority that just didn't know which part to go with. I'd seen him at the queen's side, more than once. Clearly they were friendly.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

_Liar._

Humming, I turned away.

Sitting in the room, I tried not to be bored enough to fall asleep, but it was difficult. I didn't have a book to read, and I wasn't quite sure I wanted to talk to Nostradamus. I didn't even _know_ the guy! What would we talk about? The weather? The latest breakthroughs of medicine? I was half tempted to throw my power around and leave, regardless of his own desires, if for no other reason than to retreat to my chambers and fall asleep in _my_ bed.

But as the door opened, and a figure that was becoming all _too_ familiar entered, I found myself suddenly and happily distracted. Even if I should have been cursing and worrying about the fact _this_ man always seemed to be around.

Sebastian walked in, dressed in dark brown leather pants, and off white tie up shirt, and a leather trench coat on over it, with his sword hanging at his waist. He looked a bit grimy as he walked into the room, but it was the smear of something dark, almost black on his cheek that caught and held my attention.

_That is... No, it can't..._

The familiarity was like a slap to the face.

At the strange, guarded look in his eyes, I froze.

"Nostradamus, I require a moment alone with the Queen of Scotland. Please excuse us." His voice was stiff, as was his expression.

"My Lord, I do not think it wise-"

"I don't particularly care whether or not you 'think it wise'!" The sharp edge to his voice startled me, as did the glower he sent towards the older physician. "Leave us!"

Nostradamus stood and seemed to look between us.

"Don't look at me, I'm just a guest." I muttered, put off by the sharp and deadly tone to Sebastian's voice, and the hard look on his features.

Nostradamus bowed briefly, before silently stalking out of the room, briskly at that. I watched him go, door shutting firmly behind him, before my eyes latched on to the dark spot on Sebastian's face once more. What _was_ that?

**Flashback**

_It was dark out. Night had fallen. The moonlight was the only thing highlighting the area enough to see his shadowy face...and the dark smear on his cheek._

**End Flashback**

_It couldn't be..._

Turning to me, Sebastian grabbed a chair and dragged it over, before dropping down into it at the side of my bed, fixing _me_ with that sharp, hard look. "I want to know _everything_! Enough of the hesitancy, lies and secrets! You told me you trusted me! I _lied_ to my family for you, and now I find out you're hiding things from me!"

"What?" I reeled back at the sharp accusations, my chest clenching painfully in a decidedly unpleasant feeling at the way his angered look was locked unerringly on _me_ and _me_ alone.

Instantly, I was looking back, trying to understand _what_ he was referring to, and what it was he thought I was hiding. Granted, the memories I hadn't been entirely honest about, but I hadn't really _lied_. I just hadn't told the whole truth, but it wasn't like he could _know_ that! I'd been careful with what I told him that he shouldn't have been able to put together that I _was_ hiding anything!

Unless...that mark on his face...

"You told me you saw me outside at night, in the woods, with a dark mark on my face." He raised his eyebrows pointedly, not even bothering to gesture at the mark that stood out like a sore thumb against the fair skin of his cheek. "And you told me you heard a chant. A _male_ voice chanting." He then proceeded to repeat the words that had echoed in my head for two days after I'd originally 'remembered' them. "Mary, if you truly _trust_ me, _why_ are you lying? You're hiding things!"

"I-I'm not-"

"Then tell me what you saw! Everything! Every detail!" He snapped loudly.

"What... What happened to you?" At the way his eyes narrowed, I found myself twisting on the bed until I was facing him, and there was only about five feet of space between us. I tucked my blanketed legs under me as I stared him down...before sighing. "The first image I had was of you. I think it was night time in the woods. Everything was dark, but not pitch black. I could see your face and that you had a dark smudge on your face. What _is_ that?"

"Blood."

My eyes widened. "What? Whose?" _He_ hadn't appeared hurt, so it _had_ to be someone else's...right...?

"Colin's."

I went cold.

There were no thoughts. There was no surprise. My mind just...went blank.

Colin was hurt.

Was he _dead_?

When he didn't elaborate, I felt my eyebrows drawing down. "W-Well...I... I heard you saying those words." I repeated them again, almost absently, hearing his voice echoing in my head as I did so. "And you held a blade to your hand and...y-you _cut_ your hand. Then you held your hand before you, bleeding on...something. I couldn't see what."

He nodded, expression blank. "So you saw all this, and chose to tell me only a portion of it?"

"I...I... I-I didn't _know_ you!" I let my gaze drop to my lap, feeling very much like I'd somehow betrayed him. "I saw you chanting in a strange language and cutting your hand and bleeding on something or someone. I saw you chanting in another image, and... I... I didn't know what to think. With _no_ memories, all I had was what I'd seen, and all the images I'd seen were strange, confusing, mysterious and...frightening. I was... I was afraid to confront you about them."

It hit me then.

He'd said the chant was Pagan. Heresy. That it was illegal and treasonous and would cause trouble if anyone knew I knew it. But in my vision, or whatever it was, _he'd_ been speaking it. Fluently. Cutting his hand and bleeding on something, like some kind of twisted 'offering' or something...

But...hadn't he said he was Christian?

Was _he_ lying to _me_?

"You told me you trusted me."

"I do!" I looked up sharply, hoping and praying he'd see the sincerity in my eyes. Even with my confusions and curiosities, and the strange images in my head, _that_ hadn't changed. "That's just it! All I saw were these questionable images, and yet I'm struck with this overwhelming feeling you're the _one_ person I can trust here! I can't explain it! I don't _know_ why I feel this way, or what it is I'm seeing! I..." I lowered my gaze again and shook my head. "I'm so sorry for not telling you everything, Bash. I _do_ trust you! I was just...scared. Confused."

"What else haven't you told me? What else have you seen?"

Feeling compelled to be completely honest with him, perhaps because of the hurt look that flashed across his features, telling me that my holding back information had hurt him more than I realized, I launched into a detailed story. I detailed the brief glimpse of him chanting, surrounded by what looked like cloth walls, and decked in fine clothes and heavy-looking, jeweled finery.

I described Nostradamus' voice, the words he spoke, and the ladies he spoke to, even to their expressions and clothing, and once more locking on the fact each of these images seemed to center around more present-looking people. I mentioned the images and words I'd seen on the cliff's ledge, expressing my confusions about the strange brunette woman in two of these images, and how no one ever seemed to notice me around them in each of the images.

And then I sighed at the confused look that had overtaken his features.

"And there's one more. _The_ image that made me so very scared of you."

He blinked several times, rapidly, before slowly looking up. He stared at me unflinchingly, unearthly blue eyes fixed on my face. Patient. Waiting. Dreading, maybe?

"I saw you, riding next to a strange man. You seemed to be talking, though I couldn't hear what you were saying. You and he rode through some forest path, and there was a cliff on one side of his horse. He stopped, you rode ahead, turned your horse around, rode back, and pulled your horse up aside his. I... I don't know what you spoke of, but... Bash... He looked scared. You...kept blinking rapidly and looked disoriented and...really upset yourself." My throat went dry as the image played itself out in my mind again and again.

"And...?"

"You looked at him, said something, he responded, and you...you reached out and pushed him off his horse and off the cliff." I watched his eyes widen, and the way his lips parted ever so slightly. "And you gathered the reins of his horse and rode away, not even bothering to check if he was still alive or not. You just...pushed him, maybe to his death, and you didn't even hesitate or...or...stop to look."

He stiffened. "Are you...accusing me of _murder_?"

"He was _afraid_, Bash. You just pushed him and left him."

"So you _are _-"

"No, Bash-" He stood sharply, the abrupt movement cutting me off. My stomach clenched in a _very_ unpleasant way as he turned and paced away from me a bit, raising his hands to rub them over his face. It was then I noticed the bandage on his hand. I gasped silently, staring at the white cloth wrapped around his hand. Then I stopped, taking in the time of day, darkness, where he'd been, the clothes he was wearing, the smear on his face. _No. It can't be! It's just not physically possible!_

"Go back to the Convent, Mary."

I froze, my eyes going from the sword at his waist, to the back of his head. The words had felt like a sucker punch to the stomach, and I felt breathless.

"Go get some answers while you can. Your secret isn't going to remain a secret much longer."

Before I could protest, he was walking towards and out the infirmary door, without so much as a backwards glance. As he disappeared, I found myself sagging in on myself, feeling a heavy, empty, sickening feeling as it settled in the pit of my stomach. I'd ruined it all. I told him, like he wanted, and now he hated me. The _one_ man I trusted more than any other now appeared to hate me. Honestly, I didn't blame him. He'd asked for the truth, and I knew damn well there was no _positive_ way he could take the information I gave him, and I still dished it all out.

The door opened again, and I tore my eyes from the blankets before me, only to watch as Francis wandered in. He looked around for a split second, before his eyes landed on me. Like his brother, he was a bit grimy. He must have been there with him. Judging by the way he stared a moment, before a rather displeasing expression crossed his features, I knew he wasn't here to deliver good news.

"Mary." He walked in, moving to sit slowly across from me. A strange look crossed his features. "I saw Bash leaving. He didn't look pleased. I take it the conversation didn't go well?"

I stared at him, blankly. Bash's parting words echoed in my head.

_'Your secret isn't going to remain a secret much longer'._

Did he think I'd betrayed him? Was he about to betray me? Had he already done so? I stared at the Dauphin before me, and felt a strong surge of bitterness welling up. "Is this where you get jealous over the fact I spoke to another man, and not you?" I asked sharply. "Or perhaps you'd simply like to take your mother's route and make not-so-subtle jabs at me? She was _quite_ interested to learn of my headaches. I can no longer trust Nostradamus' medicinal teas, which means more dizzy spells and incredible pain."

He frowned at me, before sighing. "Mary-"

"No! You can call me a liar all you want! You can dismiss my fears as unimportant, but..." I sighed heavily, before shaking my head sharply, almost _growling_ with annoyance and frustration. "I just... She's your mother." I laughed humorlessly. "I don't blame you for not wanting to consider the possibility. Truthfully, all I have are vague words and my own suspicions. The words of an accused traitor that a dear friend of mine trusts with her life, versus the woman who carried and raised you all your life. Why would you believe me?" I let my eyes fall to the blankets before me. "Did Colin escape, or was he killed?" Because certainly he wouldn't look so grim if he'd come back alive.

"He was killed before we could find him. I'm sorry."

"So I have nothing then. She's free to continue terrorizing me, and now with these migraines, she has another means to do so." I nodded in resignation.

"Mary-"

"Don't. I get it. You need to defend her, and you love her, and you can't possibly see her as anything but good and loving and...a mother. I don't need to hear it, too." I sighed, rubbing at a temple. "I'm not feeling well, and I'd really rather be left alone."

For a long moment, the room was quiet. I turned, shifting back to sit properly on the bed, before lying back. Then, as I stared at the ceiling, I heard the chair at the side of the bed scraping back, and the sound of footsteps as Francis left the room. The silence reigned once more, and I felt it as everything swirled around violently, like a storm cloud in my head. I told Bash everything. Everything I'd held back before, because I knew he'd hate me. Now he hated me. Just like I knew he would. On top of it all, Francis didn't believe me about Catherine-Hell, no one did! Colin was dead, I had no one to corroborate my story. No evidence. No proof.

I was in more danger than ever, and I couldn't help the small shiver of dread as I realized just that.

My only hope lay in taking Sebastian's advice and returning to the Convent for more answers.

As soon as absolutely possible.

* * *

><p><strong>Written<strong> : Feb 6, 2014

Hope you like it.

R+R please.

Thank you.

Kitten


	12. A Request

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Reign, any of its affiliates, or anything I might choose to cross it over with. I only own my OC(s).

* * *

><p><strong>(Three Days Later)<strong>

"You want to what?"

"I lived at the Convent for six years. The nuns there became like extended family, and they were endangered because of my presence. I never got a chance to collect all my personal belongings, or say a proper goodbye."

"So you want to return, even though you've been attacked once there already."

"I've been attacked once here, as well."

The words were out before I realized they might not be the best ones to speak. The room was silent and Henry looked around at his family and my ladies who filled the room. I lowered my gaze, knowing that now that the words were out, attempting to take them back was fruitless. In fact, with the way my thoughts were swirling, chances were I'd only work myself deeper into the grave I was already digging. It didn't help Bash had been avoiding me like the plague. Worse than before!

"All right. As much as it pains me to say it, you have a point. Plus, with the English knowing you've come to Court, they shouldn't have any reason to still be watching the Convent. However, I thought you brought all your things with you when you arrived."

I ducked my head, instantly falling back on the excuses I'd come up with. "I... Not everything. One of my journals is missing. It holds important..._memories_ that I hold dear." I ignored the way Catherine sneered and scoffed.

He sat back on his throne, making a big dramatic show of thinking about it, before sighing. "The last time I sent you from the castle, you were rushed back nearly unconscious from a sudden migraine that appeared out of nowhere. What if you're struck down once more?"

"A good stout dose of Nostradamus' tea should prepare me against that. Not to mention, the nuns excel at medicines, so if I have a migraine while I'm there, they will be able to aid me."

He nodded. "All right. Your last outing _was_ cut short, but by the sounds of it, the entire thing was more or less ruined by the arrival of an English warship anyways. Take a few days. Go visit the Convent. Stay along King's Road and take a dozen well-armed guards and Nostradamus."

"Your Highness?"

"He _is_ a skilled physician. It would not due to have my son's betrothed fall ill and be out of reach of a trained physician, and the journey _is_ a long one. Take Sebastian as a personal bodyguard. I trust his skills better than most. I would send Francis, but I'm afraid I require his assistance here at the castle, with affairs of state. Everyone's been cooped up at the castle far too long, and I am not blind. The tension has been quite high since the arrival of the English, and even their departure seems to have done little to ease it. Take your trip as a chance to relax."

"You expect me to take a small army and _relax_?"

He raised an eyebrow. "The English might not be watching the Convent, but on the off chance they are, the Convent has _no_ protection, unlike the castle, which has dozens of guards at any given time. Take the 'small army' as protection during your stay. At the very least have Sebastian accompany you for your own protection. I'm afraid my terms are non-negotiable. If you wish to visit the Convent, those are my terms."

I nodded, knowing immediately he could have easily refused or ordered twenty guards, or more. "All right. I accept. Gratefully." I curtsied deeply. "You have my gratitude."

"Very well then." There was a clap of hands. "Guards! Prepare a carriage for Mary, Queen of Scotland! And prepare supplies for the journey! You will leave when the sun reaches it's highest peak."

"Thank you, Your Highness."

I could see Catherine staring at me with a scathing look, but she remained silent. I didn't trust that, but I wasn't about to publicly accuse her of anything. Taking my leave, I gestured for my ladies to follow me and left the room, stubbornly _refusing_ to look at Bash. I knew, with how he seemed to hate me now, that he would not like guard duty, and he _had_ to hate me! He avoided me. He wouldn't look at me, and what few options we had to speak were brisk, indifferent and brief.

Gone was 'Bash' and 'Mary'.

In their place we seemed to go back to 'My Lord', 'Lord Sebastian', 'Queen Mary', 'Your Grace' and any other remotely acceptable and appropriate formal terms. I could tell Francis had picked up on it as well, judging by a look or three I'd caught him giving us. I feared it would only further his unjustified jealousy towards his own brother. A jealousy I did not understand. He told me he didn't want me. He told me he didn't want _this_, so why get so jealous over me _talking_ to his brother?

Maybe my instincts were better than I thought.

I knew I could trust Bash. I'd trust him without hesitation, with my life and the life of my country. I couldn't explain it, but it was a feeling that encompassed me entirely. I trusted him. Without any shadow of a doubt. Even despite the dangerous, frightening images I'd seen in my head, that as of yet _still_ made no sense.

My stomach clenched uncomfortably as my ladies followed me back to my room, where I immediately set about changing into a black lace top that was nude-colored silk beneath the heavy black lace patterning, and a black under bust corset wrapped around my waist. I slid on black leather pants, and a black leather coat overtop that buttoned down the front, to about my mid-thigh level. I wrapped my hair back into a loose braid that hung over my shoulder, and grabbed up a satchel where I'd slipped several pieces of my seemingly endless amount of heavily jewelled accessories into it, slinging the strap over my shoulder.

"Will you need those?"

"I would rather have them and not need them, then need them and not have them." I smiled at Greer. Then, I turned to Aylee. "Any news on our search?"

"I'm sorry, Mary. There's been no change. The only other viable option is Portugal, unless Scotland can suddenly come into more power and entice other countries."

I nodded.

"Has nothing changed between you and Francis?"

"The only changes would be he and I arguing more often." I sighed, brushing some of my hair behind my shoulder as I slipped off spare accessories and put them in the satchel, not feeling the need to be queenly. "I suppose that's partially my fault. I haven't been very understanding, but his jealousy over my talking to his brother is utterly absurd and annoying!"

"Jealousy? Francis is _jealous_? You realize that means he _cares_, right?"

"He doesn't care. He's told me so. He doesn't want the wedding. He doesn't want to wed _me_, and if he can run off to other women at a whim, he doesn't have the _right_ to get angry when I turn to men to _speak_ with them! I am doing nothing wrong, and yet he treats it as if I am committing _treason_!" I huffed angrily, brushing out the coat and smoothing the form fitting bodice on it, before eyeing my crown dubiously. Did I really need a _crown_ for my trip?

Oh well.

I'd leave it for now.

"Mary... _Is_ there anything going on between you and Bash?"

Hearing the _oh_ so innocent question, which still sent my nerves and irritation skyrocketing, I turned and slanted a look at Aylee. "I beg your pardon?" Seeing the way her and the others' eyes widened, I realized how sharp that had come out, and sighed. "No, I'm not taking a royal tone. I'm taking a 'I can't believe you just said that' friend tone. I _told_ you I was just talking!"

Aylee winced but nodded. "Forgive me, Mary. It's just... Bash is said to have absolutely _no_ limits with women!"

I remembered her telling me this once before.

"It's not like that."

"Maybe for you." Kenna piped up. "But what if _he_ sees it a different way?"

"Francis could be jealous because he might sense or know that Sebastian sees your time together in a different way from how _you_ do. Not to mention, you _are_ his betrothed, and yet you're talking to his brother instead of him."

"I talk to Bash because I don't feel the need to scream every five minutes around Bash! He has been a dear _friend_, but nothing _but_ a friend! I do not care about what he does on his spare time, as it does not concern me, and if Francis weren't an utter _jerk_, then perhaps I would consider talking to _him_ more!" Huffing loudly, I tried to ignore the heavy knot in the pit of my stomach. A womanizer? Like his father? I'd heard the rumors about Henry, and they weren't promising.

"Mary... I don't mean to upset you."

I sighed and turned to Aylee. "_You _haven't upset me, my dear Aylee. It's all of this that has upset me. The situation, the dangers, the questions and uncertainties. _Francis_. We have an _enemy_ in French Court! Among our _allies_! One we cannot hunt or confront, without destroying our alliance all together! I am stuck with a betrothed who keeps himself at a distance from me, and tells me he won't allow himself to care for me because he thinks our country is weak, and an alliance with Scotland could, and I quote: 'destroy France'."

"Oh, Mary!"

"I just need a break from all of this. If even for a day."

"Then go. We'll take care of things here. You know we have your back."

I smiled at the girls and nodded. "I am _so_ very grateful for all of you!" I told them honest, taking the time to hug each one, but lingering with Lola, squeezing her extra tightly. It was a bit of a bold move. I knew there was a part of her that blamed me for Colin's death. Even though _I_ hadn't planned it, or chosen him, it was because of _me_ that he was forced to attack, and ended up killed. And it wasn't even a quick, painless death, either! "I'm so sorry, Lola. You have my word, I'll find out exactly who did this, and I _will_ find a way to get justice!"

"I know you will. Be safe, Mary."

Giving one more squeeze, I pulled back and smiled at her, before standing back. "Be careful. All of you. I believe Colin was forced, and I believe it is the Queen of France herself that was behind it." The fact that _none_ of their eyes widened confirmed they'd at least suspected her before hand. It was a relief that it wasn't just _me_. Granted, they exchanged uncertain looks, but they did _not_ appear shocked in any way. "If she was able to find something to threaten Colin with, be careful what you say and do around her. I do not want her targeting any of you. Aylee, if she mentions the letters, be sure to _ensure_ that everyone knows it was _my_ idea. I don't believe she can use the inquiries against us, as they were merely inquiries, but we cannot take the chance."

She nodded. "Of course."

With a final nod to my ladies, we all exited my chambers. I paused only long enough to dig a pair of gloves out of a drawer, choosing a pair from the middle of the back pile, instead of the obvious. Most matched my leathery overcoat in color or material, so it didn't really matter, but I felt oddly paranoid. It was why I never chose a dress from the end of the wardrobe, or the first pair of undergarments or gloves available. Holding on to my gloves tightly, I nodded my head at my ladies before turning and heading towards the main hall. It had been close to the sun's highest peak during the meeting, which meant the time I took to get ready most likely would be all I had.

The halls were alive, as usual.

Servants buzzed around. Some carried laundry. Some carried cake snacks and puffy pastries. A few carried buckets of water or brooms and pails. There were guards, some standing guard outside doors, and others patrolling up and down the halls silently. Most greeted me with a 'Your Grace' or 'Your Highness' and a bow or a curtsy, not even breaking their strides as they did so, before moving on as if they hadn't paused at all.

Making my way to the front hall, I paused and sighed, looking around. I gazed at each hall that would lead me to each of the four main doors in the castle. Each one that led to each Keep, the walls, or the lakeside path. I knew that the Eastern path would take me along the King's Road, the lakeside portion of it, anyways. The same way I'd come to be _at_ the castle to begin with. It stood to reason the carriage would be waiting for me out that door, and I still found myself a bit uncertain.

"Mary."

Turning at the sound of my name, I stiffened as I spotted Francis walking up behind me. "Francis." I frowned.

"Before you say anything, I want to apologize."

_That_ startled me.

"You're right. I've been needlessly jealous of your interactions with my brother. I admit, finding out you told him of such private information over myself was discomfiting. Granted, I haven't given you any reason to see myself as an ally, over him. Sebastian-_Bash_ is a good man, a good friend, and a good brother. If there is anyone I know I _can_ trust with your welfare, I know it is him. As for your concerns about..." He looked around briefly, subtly, before stepping closer to me. "I spoke to her. She didn't come right out and say it, but I mentioned you were considering leaving, and she seemed _far_ too excited at the prospect. It pains me, but I believe...she _may_ have had a hand in what happened to you. I will keep an eye on her."

I stared at him, silently. I really didn't know what to say. "Did you bring up my accusations?"

"No. I brought up _mine_. I believe you should be safe here. At least from my mother."

_Not likely._ A small voice in the back of my head whispered, but I nodded. "Thank you."

He nodded back, offering a small smile. "Enjoy your trip to the convent. I believe the carriage was being prepared at the Eastern Gate." He bowed. "Safe travels. I should go. My father requested my presence, as you know." With a small, sincere-looking smile, Francis nodded his head and turned, walking off and leaving me alone.

I stared at him unable to process what had just happened.

Was Francis _nice_ to me just now?

* * *

><p><strong>Written<strong> : Feb 7, 2014

Hope you like it.

R+R please.

Thank you.

Kitten


	13. The Trip

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Reign, any of its affiliates, or anything I might choose to cross it over with. I only own my OC(s).

* * *

><p>The clothes I wore were admittedly more riding habit.<p>

I hadn't given too much thought beyond comfort and ease to wear and move in. Pants seemed to fit my style, plus, with the long trip ahead, I wanted to be prepared if I needed to mount quickly or run for my life for any reason. Not that it mattered. No long after I left the very spot where Francis was surprisingly _kind_ to me, I found myself approaching a carriage and climbing in.

For a long moment, I wondered if I'd be the only one riding within it. Would Bash and Nostradamus take horses? They weren't nobility, or royalty. Would they ride or _ride_? Should I have brought Sterling, instead of leaving him in the care of the servants? He might have just been a dog, but he _could_ protect me if I was endangered.

Not that I thought I would be.

Then Bash climbed in.

And surprised me when he sat _beside_ me.

He bowed his head to me, expression still carefully blank, and the carriage was instantly filled with tension.

I frowned. It was because of me. Feeling irked by his attentions, I felt my eyes narrowing, and a blaze of courage and annoyance that spurred me into speaking out. "You asked for the truth. _This_ is why I didn't want to give it. If I truly believed you a murderer, I would not have come to you. I would not have taken the time to talk to you, or rode with you on horses, but if it truly bothers you so very much to be around me, then at least have the courage to say as much! I can go and ask Henry to send someone else in your wake, and make up any necessary excuse to have you remain behind." Though honestly, none came to mind.

"Mary... What you saw-"

"I was _not_ accusing you of anything! I did, at first, but only because I didn't _know_ you! And eventually, I stopped and came to you, and trusted you, and I _do not_ regret that!" I insisted lowly, keeping an eye on the guards outside to ensure they didn't come any closer, or overhear us.

"Mary." I looked at him, only to realize he was looking at me with some unfathomable expression. "What you saw... They weren't memories. At least, I don't believe they were."

I frowned.

He turned towards me. "You told me you saw me in the dark, in the woods, possibly at night, with something on my face. And you told me you heard a male voice chanting. The reason I put the two together was because they happened the very night I went in search of Colin for you. _After _you saw it. This...chanting with me in some tent... That hasn't happened. I rarely dress up in finery." He looked almost amused. "It's constricting and I have no need of it. And I have never in gold or jewels. Nor have I pushed anyone off horses. Ever." Now his expression darkened. "Those two haven't happened."

"So...what? What are you saying? If they haven't happened, then these images cannot be memories. If they are not memories, what _are_ they?" Try as I might, I couldn't help the way my heart fluttered nervously. I couldn't tell if it was due to his proximity, the fact he was being nice enough to _actually_ stop and talk to me, or if it was because of his words themselves.

His eyes narrowed, and he turned to stare blankly at the cushioned seat across from us. "I don't know what I'm saying. Hopefully the nuns will have answers."

I hummed a bit, catching sight of Nostradamus as he approached. Though he didn't glance at the open carriage door, Sebastian fell silent, leaning back against the wall of the carriage behind him. He wore black leather pants, a dark brown cotton, long sleeved, tie up shirt under a sleeveless leather vest, and his decorative sash across his chest, with his sword hanging at his hip. His gaze, as he looked out the window, was just as blank as before.

I didn't know how he did it. How he masked his expression to be so cool, calm and collected, like he did. I wished _I_ was better at it. It was only desperation that aided me at times, but for the most part, I knew I wasn't very convincing when I had to lie, or disguise my feelings.

"I apologize if I am late. I wanted to make some tea before I left." Nostradamus climbed in, big heavy black cloak sweeping around his black robes as he sat across from me, before he held out a small water skin. "You only need to drink a little, as needed."

I stared at it, and my stomach clenched unpleasantly. "I don't need it now, thank you." But I still reached out and accepted the skin, because to _not_ do so would be to openly show my distrust. Not that he'd betrayed me, that I knew of, but I was afraid to take the chance. Catherine didn't _know_ of my migraines before. Now she did.

_Was_ I paranoid for suspecting her?

The guards gathered, and nothing more was said as we prepared and headed off. It was easy to tell the tension was high in the carriage. I didn't miss the looks Nostradamus sent Bash and I. Did _he_ think there was something going on there, as well? I noticed Bash rarely looked at me, and never once spoke. Maybe Nostradamus was sensing the tension between the bastard prince and I, and that his presence was only heightening it.

Who knew?

The trip was spent in silence. The only conversation came some time later, when Bash turned and asked if I needed a break. I found myself staring at him, trying to read his expression, before shaking my head. Truthfully, my assets were starting to go numb for being still and prone so long, but the sooner we got to the Convent, the sooner I could get my answers, and I didn't want to prolong that.

The carriage was quiet, but outside wasn't. More than once, a horse would ride past the windows, obscuring my vision of the French landscape beyond. Or one would halt and fall back briefly, continuously reminding me that we weren't alone. That there _were_ armored and armed guards outside. Still, I found myself tuning them out, and relaxing as I watched fields and forest going by.

More than once, I found myself looking into the woods, wondering if I could spot a deer before it ran off, or catch a fox as it darted through the under brush.

Then, my attention turned to Bash's words.

I'd suspected it all along.

Something was wrong.

If these memories were _memories_, why were they so recent looking? Why did I have one of Francis calling to a girl who looked kind of similar to me, calling _her_ Mary, from atop the very same cliff _I_ was standing on? Why did I see this same, strange woman sitting next to _my_ ladies, as Nostradamus' growling voice listed off strange, vague words to them? Why see Bash in the woods? Cutting his hand?

It hit me again, remembering what we'd talked about and the realizations I'd come to. Slanting a look at him out of the corner of my eye, I caught how he leaned his arm on the window frame, looking out the window. The man who claimed to be a Christian, who seemed to know _so_ much about Paganism, and even practice it.

He told me they weren't memories.

Two of them hadn't happened yet.

Francis had been talking to a totally different girl on the cliff. One that _wasn't_ me. Acting like _she_ was the one who he needed to get out of there, away from the English soldiers. Even with Nostradamus' voice. The woman sat there, with my ladies, looking as noble as they did...if not_ more_ so.

Secrets, lies, and confusions.

Who was she?

Who was _he_?

What was _happening_?

I stared at the side profile of his face. His light beard framed the lower half of his strong jaw, and his cheek was now clear of dried blood. His impossibly blue eyes were turned out the window, watching the scenery pass with what could only be a bored expression. The first day I'd seen him, his hair was styled up and unruly, but now that days had passed, it seemed to flop down more, in his face in a slightly shaggy style. I wasn't sure if I referred the new style to the old, or not.

I watched him blink eyes framed by long, thick, dark lashes, that only seemed to make his eyes seem even bluer, before I realized... I was staring.

Turning away, I felt the heat come to my cheeks, and frowned as I caught Nostradamus staring at us with a small frown. Nostradamus. The physician, surgeon...and 'soothsayer'. Hadn't someone called him a soothsayer? Oh. Yes. Greer.

Soothsayer.

One who...'sees' things...

A _seer_.

"Nostradamus, tell me, have you seen anything in relation to me?"

He blinked, looking startled, before his expression seemed to harden. "What do you mean?"

"You're a soothsayer, aren't you? Greer mentioned it in passing days ago. That means you 'see' things, does it not?"

"He sees things, and his visions are very real."

I looked over to find Bash watching the older man with a strange look. "He's real?" I paused, thinking about my own 'visions', before frowning at Nostradamus once more. "Have you? Seen anything, that is."

"I...am not certain I should say..."

"Say. I would have you speak the truth in my presence." My frown deepened and my eyes narrowed. "Have you?"

He stared at me a long moment, before sighing and nodding. "I do not believe you wish to know." He warned.

"Tell me anyways."

He nodded once more, before glancing down at his hands in his lip. "The day you arrived, I had a vision. I've...seen... Your union with Francis... I see him standing at a wedding altar, but you are not at his side. I see a sword swinging towards his head, and blood splattering across the face of Queen Catherine herself."

My eyes widened. "...What...?"

"I do not know what it means, but... I believe your union with Francis will cause his death."

I stared at the man across from me, not daring to speak. Not even daring to _breathe_. I couldn't move, and as my lungs began to scream for oxygen, I realized I _wasn't_ breathing. Inhaling sharply, I raised a hand to my face, to my lips, only to feel my fingers shaking. I shook my head. The fear that coursed through me... No. This couldn't be.

"If the wedding... I-If the wedding does not happen... It is because of _him_! _He_ does not want it! _He_ told me himself... I do not... I would not..." I shook my head. _But...it makes sense._ "You told Catherine this."

"She is my queen."

I nodded. "Now I know why she forced Colin to try to rape me." I dropped the tea from my hand, letting the skin hit the floor. "And why I knew not to trust your teas once she found out." Raising my other hand to my mouth. _He could be lying. But Bash-_

"Are you _sure_ about what you saw? Is it possible you misinterpreted it?" There was a warm hand on my arm, squeezing slightly. "Perhaps there is a detail you see that you did not mention..."

"The vision comes and goes. It changes into indecipherable, fractured images and voices. The future is not known, however, the one thing that does not change is Mary's union with Francis failing. The sword and the blood come and go with each shift in the vision. It is not a certainty, but the failed marriage is, I'm afraid."

Covering my mouth with both hands, my head spun. My heart lurched and I felt literally sick with fear as I turned my head to stare at my own lap. A failed marriage. A sword. Blood. Death? Because of me? Scotland is in danger, and _I_ am in danger, but would _Francis_ die because of _me_? The idea didn't make sense. It didn't... It just _didn't_!

"Mary..." The arm on my arm moved around my back, and I found myself pulled to a warm body.

Logic told me to pull away. I was dangerous, _and_ I was betrothed to another man! I enjoyed the contact far too much, and that was _wrong_! Yet, I found myself turning my face in to the soft, supple, worked leather of the jacket, feeling the material as I pulled my hands away from my face to grip at it tightly and bury my face in the warm, firm chest before me.

It couldn't be.

This had to be a joke!

"Listen to me." A hand came to my hair, and I was pulled tightly to the body in an embrace that did entirely too much to soothe my nerves. "Nostradamus' visions aren't always clear. What he sees might be in some way symbolic, or you might have to focus on what you _didn't_ see. He mentioned a sword and blood, but nothing of Francis' dead body."

"C-Catherine...w-was there..."

"Catherine and my father would be sitting on their thrones before the priest and you two. She would not be close enough during a wedding ceremony _to_ be caught in blood splatter!"

"U-Unless it was the ceremony..."

"A ceremony wouldn't have happened if you hadn't wed Francis. Do you see what I mean? There are a lot of variables. Do not dread until we know more. Perhaps the nuns can aid us."

"The nuns?"

Sebastian didn't respond.

I heaved deep breath after deep breath and felt the arm that rested around my back, and it's twin nestled in my hair at the base of my neck, tighten around me, pulling me tightly to the body before me. I gratefully curled up in the embrace, desperate for reprieve from the images assaulting my mind. I breathed the soothing scent of cinnamon and spice and leather, that mixed with a scent unique to the bastard himself. The pleasant, soothing aroma helped me to breathe deeply, and the deeper I was able to breathe, the more I was slowly able to relax.

Bash was right.

Nostradamus' vision was grim and ominous, but it wasn't definite. He said himself that the only thing he could promise me was that the marriage would fail. _I_ would not wed Francis, for whatever reason.

If he really _was_ real, then it was a damn good thing I was already looking at Portugal. Dangerous, untrustworthy prince or not, if I wed him, Scotland would have troops as long as we reigned. I was a queen. My own personal choices _did not matter_. If it was good for the country, I'd _have_ to wed a king, or a king-in-waiting. If I wasn't to wed Francis, that meant having to go to Portugal and plead my case.

I suddenly felt sicker.

I'd have to leave. I'd have to leave the ladies behind, because I _certainly_ wouldn't bring them into the lion's den with me, and I had no right to ask them to come along, knowing the risks. I'd have to leave the country, meaning no running away to the nuns whenever I needed a rest. I'd have to wed quite possibly a monster, in another castle, far, far away.

And...I'd have to leave Bash.

I curled my fingers tighter into his jacket, heaving a deep, shaky breath as I thought about it.

A prophecy...that I would fail to unite Scotland and France. A prophecy given by a possible seer, that I might be the _reason_ for Francis' death.

This was why Catherine was after me.

It _had_ to be!

And...if _she_ believed in it, and _Sebastian_ believed in Nostradamus...then who was _I_ to call him a liar?

Was I...really destined to fail my country?

* * *

><p><strong>Written<strong> : Feb 8, 2014

Hope you like it.

R+R please.

Thank you.

Kitten


	14. The Truth

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Reign, any of its affiliates, or anything I might choose to cross it over with. I only own my OC(s).

* * *

><p><strong>(The Convent)<strong>

"Sister Agnes!"

I smiled and nearly ran into the arms of the _very_ startled looking nun before me. I was _so_ grateful to get out of that carriage, and away from a man I was starting to realize I was falling for but could never have, and a seer who had foretold of my failure to my country, that seeing the sweet, smiling face before me, and the relief of getting away from them for a while was overwhelming!

"O-Oh! You... _Mary_! It's so...unexpected to see you!" I felt her stiffen, and her arms come around me.

I pulled back, wincing. "I apologize. I haven't written or attempted to keep in touch with any of you. I fear my stay at French Court has been far more..._eventful_ than I anticipated. _But_! King Henry has given me permission to come and visit, and has ordered his guards to remain to protect me." I bit my lip, turning to find that Sebastian had wandered over. "And he sent his eldest son to protect me, and his castle surgeon to see to my headaches." I gestured to them. "Sebastian de Poitiers. Nostradamus. Sister Agnes."

Sebastian gave a small bow to the lady across from me with a genuine looking smile gracing his features. "It is a pleasure, My Lady."

"Oh, of course! You must all be tired! Christine! Emily! Please see to it the men get set up in spare rooms, and are fed and taken care of."

"That's quite all right." Bash straightened, staying close to me, even as Nostradamus returned to the carriage. "I will be accompanying Her Majesty. I believe she wanted to have a word with someone concerning these 'headaches' of hers." He slanted a meaningful glance my way.

I nodded and turned back. "Is Sister Margaret available?"

"I believe she's attending to...um... That is... Yes, but allow me to go retrieve her for you. I'll return momentarily. Or, perhaps you'd like to speak to her at the gardens. Do you remember the way?"

"I haven't been gone _that_ long." I added with a small amount of amusement, as fragmented, blurry images came rushing to my mind. "The garden is one of very few things I remember about this place. It was hard _not_ to feel _some_ semblance of peace there, despite all that was going on. We'll meet her there. Oh! Please inform her he knows of my condition."

At the way Agnes' eyes widened, before she nodded and rushed off, I felt my own narrowing.

"Is she always so...strange?"

I raised an eyebrow and turned to the bastard at my side. "That's hardly called for. She's quite kind and caring." Then, as I turned to watch her go, I frowned. "But no, she's not always 'so strange'." In fact, the awkward, uncomfortable and nearly _afraid_ look in her eyes was _very_ odd, indeed. Shaking it off, I turned to where Nostradamus stood. "Nostradamus, are you fine with getting settled in with the soldiers?"

He nodded, approaching me with the water skin of tea. "I promise you, it is not drugged or poisoned, but you should keep it with you."

I couldn't believe him. Part of me knew that if he promised, I should consider it, but I couldn't. I couldn't trust him. I took the bag, but deep down I had no intention of drinking _any_ of it's contents. "Thank you. Sebastian and I will join you later." I turned to Bash and nodded my head, before heading for the building.

Walking up to the large stone building, I found myself looking up. It was far more intimidating than I remembered. The large, looming stone walls that blocked out the sun. The large bushes at the corners of the buildings _should_ have given it a brighter atmosphere, but shrouded in shadows, they only looked like oversized, leafy shadows.

It was a strange thought.

Reaching out, I ran a hand over the stone wall as I walked in the door Sister Agnes had disappeared into and left open for us, wandering down the empty halls and vaguely wondering where the girls had gotten to. It didn't take me long to navigate the strangely familiar halls, until I found the large open doors that led to the carefully tended garden that was hidden within the walls of the Convent.

Here the sun shone down, seemingly highlighting the flowers, and I walked a small path through the bushes and flowers towards a stone bench near an old well. The birds chirped in the air, and a cool, fresh breeze blew, bringing with it the scent of flowers and water. Wandering down the path, I stopped before the well in the very center, noting vaguely that we were alone.

I glanced over my shoulder to where Bash wandered along, following him as he shot me a small, tight smile and maneuvered to sit on the stone bench, leaving me standing at the well.

Turning back to it, I stared down into it's dark depths, frowning.

What didn't I know?

What would the nuns tell me?

Nostradamus' words swirled in my head over and over. I'd fail? I wouldn't wed Francis? I might have been happy about that fact, because I was almost dreading the idea of marrying him, despite the fact he could be shockingly decent, except for his mention of blood and a sword and Catherine.

"Don't over-think it."

I looked at Sebastian, who was leaning forward, arms braced on his knees.

He stared right back at me. "Nostradamus' words. He's real. What he does is real, and he's right more often than he's wrong, but there could very easily be something else to his vision. He never saw _Francis_ dead. Though he said you would not wed Francis, that does not mean you will leave France on hostile terms. For now, until we know more, it's best to keep the words close, but not try to over-think them." He offered a hint of a smile. "It will only serve to give you a headache."

"Hm." I turned and walked over to the bench, moving to sit beside him. "No matter what happens, I cannot thank you enough."

"Me? For what? Being a right bastard?"

Despite myself, I found myself nudging him sharply with my elbow and giving him a look, only to laugh a little at the amused look on his features and shake my head. "No, though you _have_ been, at times. I fear I gave you more than enough reason to. I _do_ apologize for not telling you what I saw earlier, but know this... I don't accuse you of murder."

He stiffened beside me. I felt it where our arms touched from our proximity.

"I couldn't hear what was being said. I don't know why you pushed him off the horse, or if it happened, or ever _will_ happen. I _do_ know that my own gut instincts tell me you're trustworthy, and since deciding to put my faith in you, I have not been disappointed. _That_ is why I wish to thank you. For all the times you've listened to me. For all the times you've offered me advice, and been there to catch me before I planted face first into the ground."

He chuckled quietly.

"Thank you for standing by me." I finished, leaning against him briefly with a small smile.

"I enjoy being here, Mary. I truly do."

"My Lady."

Hearing the voice, I turned, standing, watching as the elderly Sister Margaret joined us in the garden. Her sudden, silent presence was surprising, but even more so was the girl at her side, leaning heavily on her, with a very pale face.

"_You_!"

She blinked at me, looking startled.

"Mary?"

"She's the girl from two of my visions!"

Her long, dark brown hair was pulled back in a braid, though it was a messy one, and tendrils of the hair stuck out a bit. She wore an off white gown, that looked more like sleeping habit then a dress, and her fair skin was unusually pale. Her eyes were wide and alert, however, and she walked in to sit on a bench near us, with the elderly nun at her side.

"So you recognize her, do you?"

"No." I shook my head. "I've seen her face, but... Who _are _you?"

"My Lady, why don't you sit?" Margaret moved to sit next to the young woman, looking concerned about something.

Frowning at her, I caught her ward (or so I assumed the girl was her ward) watching me with a very curious and oddly guilty look in her eyes. I couldn't shake the growing unease. Why did she look guilty? Why did Margaret look worried, and _why_ was she calling me 'My Lady'? She'd called me Mary when I left, so why the formalities now? Was it because of Sebastian's presence? Or because I'd returned to French Court to formally take up my title and position as a queen?

I sat slowly, somehow managing to edge even closer to Bash without really _moving_. Our arms and legs were pressed firmly together. It was a semi-conscious decision, born of a desire for safety and comfort, brought on by the strange reaction of Sister Margaret, Sister Agnes, and the guilty look in _this_ woman's eyes.

I noticed as she lay them on the ground, that the elder nun carried a bow and a quiver of arrows. However, unlike the usual wooden bows, this one was larger, thicker and appeared to be made of some kind of blackened metal. The arrows, too, shone in the fading son with a metallic sheen, what was visible of them beyond the black leather quiver.

**Flashback**

_The bow and arrows clattered together in my grip, falling over the edge and dangling in the well._

_"Shit!" I quickly leaned off the ledge and grabbed the quiver, up righting it before the arrows could fall out, before pausing once more, and narrowing my eyes. "Who's there?"_

**End Flashback**

My eyes narrowed and slowly drifted to the well, curiously. _But I was in a building...and I don't... I don't _curse_ like that! ...Do I...?_

Bash didn't move or say a word.

"First of all, I would like to sincerely apologize." And true to her words, an apologetic look crossed Margaret's features. "My Lady, I fear we weren't honest with you the day you left."

Frowning, I cast a glance at the man beside me, only to have the iridescent irises dart my way momentarily, before turning back to the speaking woman. I glanced back as well. "What do you mean?"

"I need you to understand... We felt like we were backed in a corner. We never meant to harm you in any way. We simply needed your help." She leaned forward, and the young woman beside her watched my face intently. Silently. "We had no time to think or prepare, so we did the unconscionable. We lied to you, and sent you into danger, unknowingly."

Now the woman at her side shook her head slightly. "I admit, it is my fault." Her voice was soft, melodic. She still looked guilty. "When the bowl of porridge was handed to me, I got a bit on my fingers. I licked my fingers off, completely without thought, and that is how I came to be poisoned." She laced her fingers together before her, sitting straight and tall and proper. "Luckily, it wasn't enough to kill me, but it _was_ enough to make me gravely ill. So ill, I fell unconscious for a few days."

"It is not your fault, Your Grace." Sister Margaret gave her a look.

I frowned. "'Your Grace'?"

"Yes. I fear you will hate us by the time we are finished, but we need to talk." The younger girl, as of yet unnamed, turned back to me. "For I fear we've placed a target upon your back that you neither needed nor wanted."

"It was done in the name of Scotland. To protect the country and it's queen. I admit, we gave no thought to how _you_ might be affected, and for this I am truly sorry." Margaret sighed.

"If you're so sorry, how about answering my question?!" I snapped, staring at the two of them. "You keep telling me you're sorry, and you did something you think I'll hate you for, and you lied to me, and you have yet to actually _answer_ me. _What _is going on? _Who_ are you?"

The girl before me sighed and nodded, before standing and curtsying to me slightly. I watched as she wobbled, and how Margaret jumped to grab her arm and ease her back into a sitting position, before both turned back towards us once more.

"Forgive me, My Lady. This... _This_ is..."

I looked at Margaret, waiting, but the elder nun seemed to trail off with an absolutely clueless expression on her face.

"My name is Mary." The girl answered in her stead, looking me _directly_ in the eyes. "Mary Stuart, daughter of Marie de Guise. I am the Queen of Scotland."

* * *

><p><strong>Written<strong> : Feb 8, 2014

Hope you like it.

R+R please.

Thank you.

Kitten


	15. The Truth - Pt 2

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Reign, any of its affiliates, or anything I might choose to cross it over with. I only own my OC(s).

* * *

><p>Silence reigned in the garden.<p>

I could _feel_ Sebastian go rigid at my side. The girl before me watched me intently, her eyes darting all over, like she was searching for something. The sun slowly began to set overhead as I turned to find Margaret watching me with the same expression. Both were grim, guilty, and worried, watching me with earnest expressions, and I...

I laughed.

"Is this a joke?"

Despite the slightly high pitched laughter that bubbled out of my mouth, I wasn't really all that amused. If anything, I felt a bit hysterical. I stared down the nun who- "_You_ packed me away! You're the very person who _insisted_ I needed to rush to French Court, because 'I' was the one the English wanted! _You_ are the one who told me I was the queen of Scotland, and now you claim you lied to me?" Oddly enough, I was both surprised and not.

After all, why be surprised?

It wasn't like a whole hell of a lot was going my way. Almost raped, got on the bad side of a queen, stuck with a physician I wasn't sure I could trust, and falling for my betrothed's brother. Of _course_ things weren't complicated enough!

"I am aware."

"So...you lied to me?" At her slow nod, I felt my eyes narrow. I couldn't help the way my chest clenched, or the shiver of fear, even as I shook my head. "Explain. _Now_."

"Queen Mary had successfully been poisoned by an English attack on the Convent." Margaret put a hand lightly on the arm of the girl at her side, before placing it back in her lap. "However, she was still alive. There was a chance to save her, but she was too weak to travel to the castle, and we feared what would happen if the English realized the sole heir to the Scottish throne was in such a vulnerable state."

I clenched my fingers into my leathery overcoat, digging my nails into the thick material.

"We did not know what to do. We were rushing to save her, to keep her breathing and neutralize the poison as quickly as we were able in the hopes she would _stay_ alive, but her future was uncertain. We feared what was coming next."

Sebastian shifted at my side. I felt the rub of his arm against mine as he moved, before the limb came to rest against my arm once more. He didn't shift closer. I wasn't sure there was room for him to do so. He didn't shift away, either, though. That was a _huge_ relief! My head spun with the information, and images flashed in my mind.

**Flashback**

_"We must hurry! Get her to the infirmary! Get our physicians! HURRY!"_

_Nuns raced through the corridors. I was grabbed and dragged by one who looked terrified, while another girl was carried off bridal style by one of the sturdier nuns, hanging limply from the arms that rushed her down the hall._

_"She cannot die! We were to protect her!"_

_"What's going on?"_

_Two nuns turned my way, and Margaret's eyes widened. "You!"_

**End Flashback**

"We had no time to make a true and proper plan, so we acted on instinct. When you came to us, you had amnesia. You didn't know who you were, or where you came from, and it seemed to stem from a hit to the head you must have taken when you fell down the well."

My eyes narrowed.

_Well?_

"We found you in a well, child. Lying there, unconscious and bleeding from a small gash on your head. You were dressed...quite oddly. However, due to your own physical similarities with Queen Mary, and her condition _and_ yours... It seemed so very perfect! All we had to do was tell you that _you_ were the queen, and send you to Court and hope your memories wouldn't come back until after the true Queen Mary recovered and was able to take her place once more."

Blinking several times rapidly, I shook my head.

I felt dazed.

"You're saying... I'm _not_ the Queen of Scotland. That I'm...what? A scapegoat? A random girl who just _happened_ to _'luckily'_ have amnesia so you could _lie_ to me about who I was?" Standing abruptly, I felt the need to put space between myself, Bash, and the two women. In fact, the simple touch of Bash at my side was _the_ reason I jumped up an moved away. I felt like I'd been _burned_!

He trusted me! He asked me to trust him, and I did, and I knew he trusted me, and now I was finding out that everything I thought I knew...was a lie? That I'd inadvertently _lied_ to him?

Shaking my head, I raised a hand to my temple, which was beginning to ache. "If you expect me to believe this...this..." Countless foul words came to mind, and I found myself hard pressed _not_ to speak them. "If I am not Mary, who am I?"

"That, I am afraid, we do not know."

I turned and paced back near the well, before looking at it. _Should I believe them?_ My mind flashed back to the cliff, and the vision of Nostradamus speaking to Aylee, Greer and this girl. _I don't know her. I haven't seen her before. Why was I seeing _her_ in those visions?_ Chewing on my lip slightly, I stared at the well, unable to think. My mind kept almost instinctively screaming 'NO!' over and over, but my heart had to admit...her words sounded oddly believable.

"Please understand. We didn't know what else to do. Queen Mary was _gravely_ ill, and you were so close in appearance you could pass for sisters! You had no memories, and it seemed like the perfect cover to earn Mary some time to recover before we told anyone what happened! I understand you must be angry-"

"'Angry'?" I spun around, thoroughly annoyed. "I'm _beyond_ angry! You expect me to just believe your words?! How do I know you're not lying to me _now_? If you aren't, you've not only almost gotten me _raped_ with this game of yours, but you _lied_ to me! About who I was! And in turn, you made _me_ lie to others! You're telling me you don't even know who I am! _Who_ am I? Where am I from? Why am I here? How could you _use_ me like this?!"

I watched both their heads lower, though the expression on 'Mary's face was remarkably more pained than Margaret's. I turned to Sebastian, only to find him staring at _her_. Did he blame me? Would he hate me now, knowing I could very well have lied to him? _Had _I lied to him? Who was I? _Was_ she really Queen Mary Stuart?

"All we know was you were found in the very well behind you, dressed in an unusual outfit consisting of tight pants and a scandalous top, with this bow and these arrows lying next to you." Sister Margaret held up the bow, holding it out to me.

Almost reluctantly I walked over, reached out and picked it from her grasp.

The metal was chilled, and immediately I frowned and shivered at the nearly icy feel of it. The bow was surprisingly heavy. I almost dropped it when Margaret let go, startled by it, but quickly tightened my grip and held on.

My heart _thundered_ in my chest!

I felt sick.

The bow was like ice, and I held it tightly, twirling it ever so slightly just by twisting my wrist. The metal gleamed in the light, and by the feel of it, it was heavy, solid, reinforced. The bow string also shone brightly, and I ran my fingers over it.

**Flashback**

_"Are you insane? She could shoot her foot off!"_

_"Or some unlucky pervert's family jewels could get it."_

_"I've heard of taking an arrow to the knee, but an arrow to the balls? Yeouch!" _

_"_ELIANA!_"_

**End Flashback**

My eyes widened. The pain lanced through my skull, and the bow dropped from my hands as I raised my hands to my head. Immediately, I felt entirely too familiar hands on me, and a loud voice calling to me. Calling me 'Mary' and insisting on knowing whether or not I was all right.

The voice was lost among the images and voices suddenly swirling around in my screaming skull.

**Flashback**

_"He was totally checking you out!"_

_"It's the boobage! I told you this top's an attention getter!" I adjusted my top, feeling both proud I had the assets _to_ show off, and a bit embarrassed at just how much 'showing' this top was doing. The blood red halter _was_ a tiny bit tighter, and with a good push up bra under it- _

_"Dolly Parton wanna be?"_

_"No thanks. I like being able to stand up straight."_

_"Touché. Ice cream truck?"_

_"Nah! Gravitron like five times in a row, an hour to struggle _not_ to puke my guts out, and then maybe some good old fashioned pizza. And cotton candy. And candy apples. Ooooh... Candy apples!"_

_"You and your sweets, Ellie!"_

_"Pfft! You know it!"_

**End Flashback**

Shaking my head, I felt my fingers digging into my skull, and my braid knocking against my chest and back, flying around crazily from the sheer force of my shaking head. I couldn't _help_ but cry at the agony in my head! I could feel the pulse pulsating beneath my finger tips, like my very _brain_ was throbbing!

"Mary?"

"My Lady!"

"What's wrong with her?!"

"She's remembering something! I don't know what _games_ you two are playing, but each time she remembers something, she's subjected to unimaginable pain!" It was surprising to hear Bash's voice so sharp and deadly, even as I felt myself being held snug to a chest.

Oh!

My legs had given out!

I was sitting curled up in a warm lap now! I leaned in to the strong arms wrapped tightly around me, blocking out much of the outside noise and light. If only it could help protect me from the _inside_ noise and light!

**Flashback**

_"Hey, sis?"_

_"Yo!" Sticking my tongue out at Erika, I turned on the couch to face the door once more, noting my brother standing there with an icing-covered fork in hand. "Careful not to leave crumbs on the floor. You know how anal mom gets about that." Speaking of, I reached out and picked up my own slice of cake, digging the fork in and shoving a large piece of it into my mouth. I chewed, placing the plate back down, and turned back to my brother._

_"Please don't ever mention 'anal' and your mother in the same sentence!"_

_Without even looking, I choked on my cake and reached out, slapping the arm of the blonde next to me. "EW!" I struggled not to inhale and suffocate on the sweet sugar in my mouth as I chewed, grimacing and shaking my head. _Oh shit, that's wrong!

_"My thoughts exactly."_

_Jake shrugged, not bothering to do anything about the fork in hand, or to respond to the little gross fest we had going on. "I can't find Dany."_

**End Flashback**

"What did you two hope to accomplish? You _could_ have told us! We are your _allies_! Yet you willingly _chose_ to lie to us!"

"No, I-"

"Queen Mary was not conscious to make such a decision! It was we loyal Frenchwomen who chose to do this, and not to betray our king, but to protect the queen as we were ordered to do! We meant no harm to the girl! She was simply..."

"A tool for you to use!"

"No-"

"Enough! We can discuss this later! She needs medical attention! _Now_!"

"Yes, of course. Please, help her!"

**Flashback**

_The large well sat in the center of the room, lined by large, thick wooden beams around the outside edge. Wandering closer to it, I raised my hands up and leaned them on the wooden surface, having to bend forward in order to do so._

_The bow and arrows clattered together in my grip, falling over the edge and dangling in the well._

_"Shit!" I quickly leaned off the ledge and grabbed the quiver, up righting it before the arrows could fall out, before pausing once more, and narrowing my eyes. "Who's there?"_

_The voice was low. I struggled to listen, only to feel the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. I shivered. I couldn't explain it, but the fear refused to fade, and despite my mind immediately trying to shove every logical, explainable explanation into my head, I couldn't make it go away._

_"...I'm sorry..."_

_Feeling what I'd swear was a presence behind me, I straightened, jumped, and spun once more. _

_"WHA-"_

_There was something behind me! I had no time to figure out what it was, however, before I swear I felt like I was being pushed! The shadow behind me seemed to lurch, and a pressure pressed firmly against my chest, shoving me back. Hard. I had no time to even cry out before I was falling backwards...over the edge and into the well behind me._

**End Flashback**

My eyes snapped open, and for a long moment, I just lay where I was.

It took me a painfully long moment to realize I was laying in the Convent's infirmary. I looked around and quickly located Mary on a cot next to mine, fast asleep. Margaret was on another cot not too far away, also asleep. The room was dark, and a glance out the window showed it was night.

My head spun.

I remembered.

I remembered _everything_!

And I.

Was.

_PISSED_!

Sitting up sharply, I took a second glance around the room, quickly locating my bow and arrows by the door. My eyes were wide, and I felt them narrowing as my chest heaved for breath. I was scared. I was _scared_! This should _not_ have been possible, but here I was! I was in the same room as Adelaide Kane! _Queen Mary Stuart of Scotland!_

The very man who'd held me earlier was none other than the Channing to Erika's Tatum! Smexy Sebastian de Poitiers. The Coombs version, with the impossible eyes, velvety smooth accent, and the smile that made panties drop for miles!

I'd seen Alan, Megan, Anna, Celina, Toby... The names went on and on! And I hadn't been aware of it! I'd been lost in darkness, playing a role I never even realized my obsession with Reign would prepare me for, and now that I was back, all I could think about was...

She lied to me.

It wasn't like I was ever asked. I wasn't given the choice. I was told. Insisted upon. Lied to. Convinced! I was forced to play a role I _never_ wanted to!

I carefully climbed out of the bed, wobbling as my head pounded threateningly. My head _hurt_! The pain made it difficult to grab my things and wander out the door. The memories and images floated through my mind. I suddenly knew why the images I'd been seeing were all wrong. They _were_ memories. Memories of a story I'd watched. Memories that were of events yet to come in this world.

My pace was brisk and purposeful as I hurried down the corridor. I rushed, but I didn't run. My head throbbed too sharply to run.

It took me all of two seconds after I climbed out of bed to realize I was still dressed up in the outfit I'd been wearing when I left the castle, sans crown. It didn't matter. I rushed down the halls, towards the garden, and as I stepped outside and into the flowers, I felt something come over me.

_I was pushed in. I fell in and ended up here. If I want to go home, if I _can_ go home, it stands to reason it would be through the same well that brought me here to begin with, right?_

I padded forward, walking on the balls of my feet like I'd learned as a child. I crept up to the well, and stared down at it, feeling my chest heaving and my eyes burning. _I'm no queen. I was _never_ a queen!_

"Mar..."

I turned sharply at the sound of the voice, and I winced as I spotted an all too familiar prince standing from the bench nearby.

"You should be resting. Are you well?"

My mouth worked silently for several moments, and I felt the tears slipping out of my eyes. When he stepped closer, I stepped back, watching him go still and frown at me. "I never wanted this. They lied to me. T-They _used_ me!"

"I-"

"I know. I know everything. I remember everything. My name was never Mary. It's Eliana. Eliana Bennett, and this... This isn't my world."

His eyes widened.

"I just... I wanna go home! I-I'm sorry!" Turning, I leapt over the edge of the well without hesitation, _terrified_ it wouldn't work! I held on to my bow and arrows tightly, feeling it as I plunged into the icy, pitch black depths of the well.

* * *

><p><strong>Written<strong> : Feb 8, 2014

Hope you like it.

R+R please.

Thank you.

Kitten


	16. Find Her!

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Reign, any of its affiliates, or anything I might choose to cross it over with. I only own my OC(s).

* * *

><p><strong>(Normal POV)<strong>

"This is insanity! You expect me to believe we've been _had_?! That the girl from before was _not_ in fact the Queen of Scotland, but an _imposter_?!"

"Your Highness, if I may-"

"You may _not_! You were poisoned by Englishmen, and instead of confiding in your _supposed_ allies, you chose to employ some commoner to play the role of Mary, queen of Scots?"

"Well, Henry, you must admit, she was rather believable. Even with the difference in eye color, no one thought her an imposter."

"Silence, Catherine!"

"It was not Queen Mary's decision. She was unconscious. Unable to _make_ a rational decision at the time! I believe the nuns did the right thing! Think about it-" Francis stepped up then. "-if the English got word Mary Stuart of Scotland had been poisoned, how long before they invaded our lands, storming into the Convent to slaughter her? They may be _our_ ally, but they haven't hesitated to send in spies and assassins in the past, and their animosity with Scotland is_ no _secret. If they invaded us to get to her, how long before we were at war with them? We're not currently strong enough to engage them directly! Not with all our other borders being endlessly pressed by our enemies! This was the safest way to ensure the queen of Scotland's life, _and_ our alliance!"

Henry raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "So they sought to save our alliance by with holding the information from us?"

"If we had known, what would you have done?"

"Sent aid! Physicians and soldiers!"

"And the English would have heard about it. They would have investigated. It could have led to war."

The room was silent as the precious few within it seemed to think over the words. The newly revealed _true_ Queen of Scots stood in the center of the room, with Sebastian on one side and Nostradamus on the other. She was still pale and shaky, but stood tall and firm before the others, appearing every inch a queen.

"Fine. We can discuss this later. Where is this other girl? The imposter? She impersonated a queen and you simply allowed her to escape?" Henry's voice was eerily calm.

"No, father." Sebastian took a step forward. "She was proven to have amnesia. She was not aware of the fact she was _not_ in fact Mary until the very end, and the reveal of what truly happened helped her to remember. She fell unconscious for two days before regaining her consciousness. The last I saw of her..." He frowned, looking uncertain.

"Yes...? The last you saw of her...?"

He swallowed visibly, before glancing back up. "She was crying at the edge of a well in the garden. I made my presence known to her, she looked at me, apologized, and jumped down into the well. I went to see if she was injured, but when I reached the edge of the well...she was not down there."

"So you're saying she retreated through tunnels then?"

"No, there...were no tunnels. I climbed down myself to investigate. There was _no_ exit down in the well. She simply...vanished."

Catherine scoffed now. "People do not _simply vanish_."

"That _is_ what happened." His eyes narrowed at her briefly, before he turned away. "She apologized, told me this wasn't what she wanted, told me her true name, and jumped."

"Her true name? And what _is_ her 'true name'?" Henry was leaning forward now, eyeing his son intently.

Bash bowed his head briefly before meeting his father's eyes. "Eliana Bennett. She also claimed this wasn't her 'world'. I'm not certain what she meant-"

"Not her _world_? I'll tell you what that meant! She was a _demon_! Hell spawn, likely sent to toy with us-"

"_SILENCE_!"

Everyone reeled back in shock as the King of France immediately surged to his feet. The room fell utterly silent as everyone stared at the looming, suddenly intimidating presence of the king as he stood before his throne, eyes wide, staring at his first born son.

"What did you say her name was?"

"Fa-"

"WHAT WAS HER NAME?!"

"E-Eliana. Eliana Bennett."

"Henry?"

"Eliana Bennett. A girl from 'another world'. She..." Henry looked ready to explode. "You _let her escape_?!" He was immediately jogging down the stairs. "You will gather whatever guards the castle can spare, and you will send out search parties for her. You will _find her_, and you will bring her back to the castle! _Am I understood_?!" He seemed completely oblivious to the shocked state of his family around him.

Sebastian nodded briskly. "Of course!" He wisely chose to keep to himself the fact that he wasn't entirely sure she was even in their world, anymore.

"Francis, you will go with him!"

"I don't understand what's so important about a girl-" Catherine muttered sourly.

Without a word, Henry whipped around and pinned her with a glare. One that, while under normal circumstances Catherine would have laughed at, _actually_ had her recoiling away from him with paling cheeks. He said nothing. He simply stared, unblinking, before turning to Mary.

"Mary, since you were the source of all this chaos, I want you to send word to your mother. Have her keep an eye out for the girl, and return her to France if she is able to find her. At. Once."

Mary nodded, looking alarmed.

When no one made to move, Henry glanced around. "_Well_?! What are you waiting for! FIND HER!"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong> :

So I wrote this earlier this year. I had no intention of posting it until it was truly complete, with a definite romance between Bash/OC, but that wasn't how it turned out. Technically, this story isn't complete. However, my muses have been fickle lately. I have plenty of muses begun, but have a next to impossible time completing them. So when I went back and re-read this story, not only was I surprisingly pleased at how it turned out (compared to the work I've been turning out lately), I was also pleasantly surprised to realized it could qualify for a 'complete' status.

Since I'm anti-posting incomplete works at this point (if I can help it), that means all I needed to do was put an end chapter and edit it to post.

It's not really _complete_, but it's got a good enough ending to classify as such for now. I can work on potential sequels all I want now, putting them at whatever time frame I so please.

Now, that being said, I've left it open for a sequel, because I kind of want to put in some Sean Teale action. I also have potential crossover ideas in the works. Mainly I'm torn between Reign/Skyrim or Reign/Final Fantasy X(X-2).

And yes, my OC will be herself and not a fake queen this time around. So that includes real world girl with modern day attitude and language, and I'm not entirely sure if I'll make it Bash/OC, OC/Coné, or Bash/OC/Condé.

**Written** : Nov 8, 2014

Hope you like it.

R+R please.

Thank you.

Kitten


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